


Strings of Fate

by xikra1648



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Comedy, Drama, F/M, Family Drama, Past Character Death, Past Lives, Post Starscourge, Post-Canon, Reliving Previous Lives and Deaths, Romance, Smut, Soul Mate (Kind of?), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-30 22:43:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xikra1648/pseuds/xikra1648
Summary: You never considered yourself something special, you were just someone who had done impressive things.  You were just a refugee with a crazy family and managed to be wickedly lucky while also having the worst luck in all of Eos.  You didn't place much faith in the Astrals, placing all of your faith in the absentee Etro instead.  The one Goddess who, if history serves as any guide, places the power to break prophecy in the hands of her followers.Noctis had fully expected to die.  He wasn't happy about it, frankly he was pissed he had to die to clean up the Astrals' mess, but he would do it for his people.  Then, just like when he was younger, Carbuncle appeared to him in a dream and told him everything had changed.  The little furball was cryptic at best, like he always was, and left Noctis to figure out just what the hell he was talking about.  What was this about past lives?  Who was this 'other half' he didn't remember but should have known?  Why couldn't he just get a straight answer for once?





	1. Fate's Pity

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how I feel about this. It was an idea I couldn't put down. I wanted it to be a quick one-shot but it turned into a multi-chapter story. I'm hoping it won't be too long, especially considering two chapters range from 6 to 8 pages in Microsoft Word.
> 
> Let me know what you think.

# Chapter One

### Fate's Pity

Noctis fully expected to die, he was prepared for his battle with Ardyn to lead to the end of his life, even if Ardyn was not directly responsible.  He expected to join the past kings in the crystal, taking his place as the last king of Lucis.  He was born for this, destined for this, trained for this, made his peace with this, even said his goodbyes to prepare for this…

_But it didn’t happen._

Noctis never felt his life slipping away, not truly, but as he fell into a deep unconsciousness he was trapped in his own dream.  A dream where he was surrounded by an endless darkness.  He was faced by a familiar friend that he had not seen in years, sitting on the ground in front of him and looking up at him with wide eyes as the red crystal on his head glistened despite the empty space around them.  Noctis kneeled down, absentmindedly scratching the soft white fur between Carbuncle’s unbelievably large ears, almost as large as the small creature himself, and his long fox-like tail twitched a bit before curling around him as he sat. 

Despite everything, knowing this small white creature knew far more about his destiny than he ever had, Noctis only had one question.

“Why am I still alive?”

_For hundreds of centuries, hundreds of lifetimes, you have been forcefully pulled from your other half, even forced to kill each other, but you always met.  The Astrals recognize your fate took the turns it has because of them, and had they acted earlier the world would not have required your sacrifice.  In an act of pity, and remorse, that your connection to your other half has degraded to the point you do not even recognize each other, your fate has been changed._

_They can’t promise everything will end well, only that you have your first real chance.  Your fate is now entirely in your hands, as is the fate of your kingdom, and the one whose soul is eternally tied to your own.  I’ll help you where I can._

_I’ll see you again._

Noctis woke up from his decisive battle with Ardyn and winced as he sat up in the bed he was resting in.  Looking out the window he recognized the scenery outside as one of the suburbs of Insomnia, likely one of the few places left untouched during the Imperial attack over a decade ago.  The sky outside was bright and the long-lost sun shined down onto the street and the mixture of newly renovated and long abandoned houses.

Sitting up, slowly and carefully, he saw the green vials of potions at the bedside table and snatched a Hi-Potion, drinking it and grimacing at the taste.  They were almost as bad as Ethers (though _nothing_ was as bad as Elixirs).

“You’re awake, welcome back to the land of the living,” Ignis greeted as he opened the door, planning on checking the unconscious king.

“How long was I out?” Noctis asked, his voice raspy from unuse as he tried to rub away the soreness in his shoulder and stiffness from his neck.

“A week, Gladio and Prompto have already gotten to work rebuilding the city and what’s left of the Crownsguard have returned to Insomnia.  The living quarters of the Citadel have been repaired but we were advised against moving you,” Ignis explained the status of things, jumping past the inevitable questions the king would have.  While he had been missing for most of his reign, training with the past kings of Lucis to save the world from an otherwise eternal darkness, Noctis had grown into his new role fairly well.

“Good, we’ll move back there and someone can move into here just…” Noctis laid back down with a yawn, “Let me get some sleep, saving the world is exhausting.”

That dream, and seeing Carbuncle for the first time since well over ten years ago, as the seemingly inconspicuous creature told him everything he knew was ripped from under his feet, hadn’t helped him recover.  Most disturbingly, however, was the vague and indirect statement of past lives he _should_ have been spending with someone else.

He could only hope he’d find answers.


	2. Old Ends and New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your life was nothing but twists and turns. Things had been crazy enough before your family had to run to Insomnia, things only got crazier when you made your way into the Kingsglaive at a frighteningly young age. Between that, your best friend, being the last Glaive, your family's particular brand of crazy, and the end of the world...
> 
> Your life was a mess...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really feel like this chapter is all over the place, but there's a sort of flow...I don't know. I might completely revamp it in the future. Reviews would be nice, constructive criticism.
> 
> EDIT: Some grammatical and form changes. Nothing major, added a few details to help flesh things out a little.

# Chapter Two

### Old Ends and New Beginnings

You had been friends with Iris since middle school, in choir, when your teacher told the choir that she wanted you to sing like birds.  At that point you, the most smart-mouthed 12-year-old on the _planet_ who had learned her entire vocabulary from her questionably sane mother mixed with a short temper as the result of being called ‘that refugee girl’, snapped, “Then maybe you should get some fuckin’ birds.”

Iris laughed so hard she fell off of her place on the choir stands, and the two of you were sent out to the hall.  You’ve been best friends ever since.

You had met the Prince and his companions a few times, though none as much as Gladio seeing as he was the older brother of your own best friend.  If you weren’t with the Glaives, who all hovered over you like protective siblings, but none near as much as Nyx, you were hanging out with Iris at the Amicitia household.  You’d see Ignis around while you were reporting to or returning from a mission, or just hanging around to train or hang out with your fellow Glaives.  You saw Prompto around when he began training, even gave him a few pointers seeing as you had a _lot_ of experience fighting as the smallest person on the field, but then you’d dash off to rejoin the Glaives.  You saw Noctis around fairly often, at least once a month you were both in a meeting regarding the Glaive’s actions for the month.  You knew he and his father monitored some of the more crucial missions you had been sent on, but that didn’t mean you and your comrades cut back on the battlefield banter.

You were never super close, though you did get along fairly well right off the bat.  An impressive feat considering how standoffish Noctis could seem when in truth he was just _shy_.  There was just something about you that made it _so easy_ to open up.  He was admittedly impressed with your ability in the field as the guys drove you and Iris to Cape Caem, Iris on her brother’s lap and you in the center of the back seat after arguing sitting on someone’s lap would turn you into the protagonist of a crap-tastic romantic comedy for teenagers.  Iris would jump into the fight on occasion, her own combat training not yet complete but her training in healing already fairly advanced, but you were firing arrows with deadly accuracy or crippling enemies with your daggers, sometimes even putting your lethal training in magic to use.

It was, honestly, a bit intimidating to see an 18-year-old girl so good at fighting when Noctis himself was still training at that same age.  Everyone heard stories about the Kingsglaive, they were the best of the best before the Lucian King granted them the ability to use Caelum magic, and after that they only got better.  It wasn’t a secret your family was made entirely of refugees from one of many former Lucian territories that had been abandoned as a result of the war with Niflheim.  Your family was far from the first or last to arrive, but you had been one of the youngest to show signs of the already unusual aptitude for magic.  Your mother's position as a weapons engineer allowed your unique aptitude to be spotted fairly early, as you began poking around the magical stones used for elemancy.  To think it all started because you were bored and curious.

At the youthful age of 14, only two years after your family moved to Insomnia as refugees, you were brought in and trained.  You showed a skill for pulling weapons, warping, and kept a bow at all times as well as the daggers issued to you along with your Glaive uniform.  You used to keep arrows, but you had figured out how to conjure an arrow with magic during one of many afternoons you spent experimenting with the magic granted to you by the king.  You weren’t much of a mage, preferring the cold metal of a weapon in your hands than the magical burning, sparking, or freezing of a spell, but you knew what you were doing with them.  You also got a kick out of putting up the hood of your uniform coat, using Thundara and cackling like a Sith.  You’d also figured out how to use a very localized Blizzard to keep your drink cold.

Sure, you were taking advantage of your abilities to the point that it was more like abuse, but you knew for a _fact_ you weren’t the only one.  You weren’t the one that cooked Jiffy Pop with a localized Fire, but you didn’t like to think about that now.  Once fun and happy memories now left a sour taste in your mouth after the attack on Insomnia.

The Kingsglaive was another family, another home, and now…now they were all either deserters, traitors, or dead.

_“Nyx no!  I can-“_

_“Get the hell out of here!  Get your family and go!”_

_“But Nyx!”_

_“The Prince and Lady Lunafreya need you alive!  Now get your family and go find Prince Noctis!”_

_“Nyx-“_

_“Please!”_

_You didn’t hide the tears, Nyx was the first constant male figure you had in your life.  He was the big brother you always needed and you wanted to stay with him both as a comrade and a friend, but he wanted you to see a better future.  So, you did as he asked._

There had always been an air about you that was a tad intimidating even before you joined the Kingsglaive, having a face that could go from _‘I bake cookies in my spare time’_ to _‘I’ll kill you so fast you won’t realize what happened for an entire year,’_ in a matter of _seconds_.  It didn’t help that, with one smirk and a quirk of an eyebrow, you could rip out _anyone’s_ still-beating heart and they’d be perfectly fine with it, if they didn’t just rip out their heart and hand it to you themselves.  Replace that smirk and quirked eyebrow with a deceptively sweet smile, which you had used to get discounts at hotels and diners, and after ripping out their own heart for you, your victim would _apologize_ for not having a gold platter to put it on.  You weren't just strong, you were _clever_ about it.

That made seeing you after the attack in Insomnia, healing in a room of the Leville, so jarring.  You had left your Kingsglaive uniform across the room, folded neatly on the table like you were simply putting it away to be cleaned, but that didn’t hide the blood, rips, and burns.  You were wearing all black, a pair of shorts, an oversized pullover sweater adorned with the Kinglglaive’s symbol on the back, thigh-highs, and the knee-high boots of your uniform.  The gauze wrapped around your head and thigh were still lightly stained with old blood, the gauze around your left hand prevented you from wearing your glove on that hand, and the large bandage on the side of your neck made it clear you had gone through hell and back.

_As the only remaining Kingsglaive you were the only one with answers.  Noctis entered the hotel room planning on demanding answers.  You fell to one knee, the opposite hand over your heart, but Noctis caught the wince of pain and while he couldn’t claim to know you well, he knew you weren’t one to look as…distant as you did._

_He sighed, reaching down to help you up, you winced again as you rubbed your thigh and lightly joked about failing to outrun a bullet.  He moved you to sit on the side of the bed, and sat next to you._

_“What happened?”_

_“Tredd, Axis, and Sonitus got it in their heads King Regis abandoned us because he had to agree to Niflheim annexing the outlands.  Crowe and Titus were Imperial Glauca the entire time, or maybe they were turned into them...I don't know.  Luche, Libertus, Nyx and I were the only ones left, Libertus was already wounded.  Nyx and Luche died fighting the Glauca, but by then the city was already overrun and daemons…” your shoulders were slumped as you stared down at the ground, “King Regis ordered us to leave, we were taking Lady Lunafreya to Section D but we were attacked.  Luche tried to use the Ring of Lucii but was burned alive by it, and Nyx wouldn’t even let me try…he just made the deal to die for that power.  He told me to get Lady Lunafreya and the ring out of the city.”_

_“Where is she now?” Noctis asked, as you expected._

_“I don’t know.  We were cut off by deamons so I stayed behind to buy them time to get away.  Iris managed to get my mom and sister out of the city and found me on their way out, half dead.”_

_You felt for the bandage wrapped around your bust and down to the bottom of your rib cage.  It was nothing short of a miracle you were still alive, let alone conscious and walking.  The mixture of a Phoenix Down and Elixir was potent, and left you shaking as a result._

_You weren’t going to tell him anything about what Lady Lunafreya had told you when you cleared the way for her escape.  She didn’t want to leave you, she was a kind soul who didn’t want anyone to suffer, let alone for her sake.  She had been just as heartbroken over Nyx's sacrifice as you were.  Honestly it was that trait that made you all the more willing to do so.  Still, she begged you to survive, and promised to pray for you.  You smiled and cracked a joke, telling her there was no need as this level of hell was what you signed up for.  Then she said something that you still couldn’t believe._

_There was no way you could be more important to Noctis than her.  You didn’t even know him that well._

_She was just trying to make you feel needed in what was likely to be your last hours._

During your training, you focused on skills that would play to your strengths.  You were quick, lethal, and far too clever for _anybody’s_ well-being.  It’s not like your parents died and left you on the streets to become a thief and you had no other choice.  Your escape to Insomnia as refugees was more peaceful than most as nobody had died, your father had been an absent figure since he knocked up your mother.

You had a normal family…alright it was your mother (who knew you and your sister had different fathers but had _no_ idea who they were) and older sister (who was the well-behaved one of the family) but they were alive and loved you, and you loved them just as much.  The three of you had your own jobs in the Citadel, your mother was a non-combatant weapons expert for the Crownsguard and your sister one of the many engineers that kept everything running, and you thanked Etro every day that they both had the day off on the day of the attack.  You managed to keep them alive after the attack on Insomnia and even the Starscourge out of willpower and a sheer _refusal_ to let your loved ones die anything than a peaceful death at the age of 90 and surrounded by their loved ones.  Watching your mother’s _"love-life"_ you learned to be picky about who you love, but when you loved someone you loved deeply with all your heart. 

The Kingsglaive was just the best career choice for you.  Even if an affinity for magic wasn’t necessary, you had the mindset, the strength of mind and surety in your identity even during the normally baffling years of adolescence, and the willingness to put your all in the training and preparation.  You proved yourself after the attack on Insomnia, jumping on your training and supplying both the Prince and Marshall with information when you weren’t attacking Imperial bases, ripping apart Imperial attempts at making new bases, and chasing them out of town.  Even with your healing wounds, you fought back against the Imperials as they approached Lestallum, and Iris was furiously snapping at you through her tears as she healed your re-opened wounds along with your newer wounds.  Then, of course, there was the occasional hunt.  Just because the country was at war didn’t mean that fiends and daemons stopped causing problems.

Once you were fully healed, you began focusing more and more on getting information.  You’d be the first to admit that the Kingsglaive wasn’t doing well, as far as you knew you were the last one left.  Still, that didn’t mean you were going to abandon the colors or the crest.  You did have to tuck most of your uniform away until it was stitched back together, matching the uniform boots and gloves with your casual clothes.  You would go where you were needed, and at the moment it was working with the Crownsguard Marshall.  You might be the last Kingsglaive but you weren’t going to sit back and do nothing.

You were still a Glaive, it was your duty to serve and protect Lucis, and that would never change.

It was assumed that Niflheim didn’t have any agents or spies inside Lucis, but the attack on Insomnia told you otherwise.  Every time a new base was built, you found yourself playing word games and batting your big eyes until you found the spy.  From there it was only a matter of time until you pulled them to an _undisclosed location_ and _acquired_ the necessary information to send to the Marshall.

During the Starscourge, your roll changed.  You were easily one of the few remaining powerhouses, and you were the only one with the balls to go back to Insomnia to gather information on Ardyn’s movements.  You would only return to the fallen city occasionally, normally keeping to daemon hunts, but once Noctis returned from his 10-year absence you pitched your tent outside the walls of Insomnia and returned every day.  When you received word that the guys were making their way into the Citadel, the throne room specifically, you scouted ahead and waited in the courtyard outside, your bow in hand and an arrow ready to fire.  It was your job, your duty, and you were the only one that could do it.

“King Noctis,” you greeted with a small bow, almost teasingly, before you reported, “Ardyn hasn’t made any big moves since you got back.  Based on his movements before and during the Starscourge he’s got a trap set up inside.  He’s been waiting for this and he’s gonna’ make it as big a show as he can.  I’ve taken out the daemons I could without getting spotted, but there’s still going to be a lot inside.”

You tried not to think about that mirage of Nyx’s body hanging from the ceiling by chains.

“Thanks, find a safe place and hide out until it’s over, we’ll take it from here,” Noctis ordered as the five of you stood in the front palace courtyard.

“Stay here and take out any reinforcements before they get to the palace, got it,” you replied with a curt nod, as if you were repeating orders.

“No,” Noctis hadn’t run into _anyone_ that _outright_ defied him like that since he got back.  When he left he was an immature 21-year-old that couldn’t say no and found himself doing silly things like tracking down beans…or _chasing frogs._ He wasn’t that same immature 21-year-old, now standing tall and carrying the aura of the king he would never get to be.  Sure, he still ended up chasing down frogs, but to his defense Sania was questionably sane at best.

_Who the hell is worried about frogs during the Starscourge?_

“You’re to-“

“Stay here and keep reinforcements from reaching the palace,” you repeated, standing firm with your bow lowered and an arrow already notched, just waiting to be aimed and fired.  The king was about to reply, again, before you cut in and snapped, “Look, your highness, I’m not leaving.  So, you can stay here and argue with me until the end of time, _or_ just agree with me and go get your dumbass on that bedazzled chair so the end of time isn’t _tomorrow_.”

 _That_ comment took him by surprise, if the way he was slightly taken aback was any hint.  Gladio and Prompto, of course, were snickering and Ignis, after ten years of putting up with your smart mouth, wasn’t even phased.  Still, the king wasn’t sure how to process just _how_ you defied his orders.  You cut off another attempt to respond with a loud and drawn-out, “ _Gooo!”_

There was no argument after that, the king and his closest friends and allies just made their way to the palace as you stood tall and watched the daemons along the perimeter.  As you patrolled the perimeter accessible to daemons, you stepped carefully in your black uniform knee-high boots, not making a sound as you stepped lightly.  Your black slacks, tucked into your boots, fit like a second skin and were just as comfortable as was the gray V-neck t-shirt you wore under your black frock coat adorned with the symbol of Bahamut with fifteen swords on the back.  Your black fingerless gloves fit like, well, gloves as they were tucked into the sleeves of your coat and trailed up to your elbows. 

As the king left you pulled your hood over your head, allowing your metal visor to keep your vision clear, and pulled up the deep sea blue scarf that covered the lower half of your face.  Every Glaive had personalized their uniforms a bit, you had taken to wearing a sea blue scarf to cover the lower half of your face, and a matching scarf tied around your right thigh with the ends flowing down to your ankle.

Your original Kingsglaive uniform had long-since perished during the attack on Insomnia, but you managed to get your hands on another.  Still, you kept your Kingsglaive training and abilities given to you by King Regis in top shape, you had to with daemons all over the damn place.  Iris called it paranoia, you called it being prepared for anything.

_Even sassing the king._

You waited for hours, and something wasn’t sitting right in your stomach.  You abandoned your self-assigned post and carefully stepped inside, your bow raised and ready to fire as you carefully stepped through the palace that had been tarnished and tainted by Ardyn and his daemons.  You saw Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis unconscious on the ground with no sign of the king or Ardyn.  You continued your way back until…

“Dammit,” you cursed under your breath, slinging your bow over your shoulder and running to the king, sliding to your knees as you reached the king and checked his pulse.  Faint but growing fainter.  Pulling a Phoenix Down from your pouch you applied the magical feather before grabbing an Elixir and holding it between your teeth as you pushed up Noctis’ sleeve far enough to get at a vein and inject the green liquid directly into the bloodstream.  It was effective to apply it with magic, but not nearly as effective if injected directly into the bloodstream.  If this didn’t save him, literally _nothing_ would.

You waited, your fingers over the pulse point on his neck as his pulse very slowly became stronger and steadier.  He didn’t show any signs of waking, but if the small twitches of his eyelids were any sign, he was dreaming which indicated there was brain activity as well.

“[Y/N]!” Gladio called out to you as he, Prompto, and Ignis ran to you, holding their breaths as they waited for news of the final fate of their close friend.  If those goodbyes he left them with were any indication…

“He wasn’t doing well when I got here, but a gave him a Phoenix Down and an Elixir, his pulse has stabilized and it looks like he’s dreaming, so he’s got some good chances if you keep an eye on him,” you reported as you stood up, “I’m gonna go back to work, the suburbs have been mostly untouched so you can stay there until we get the palace back together.”

“Thanks, short stuff,” Gladio thanked you with a casual, one-armed hug as he called you the nickname he’d given you years ago.  He couldn’t believe it.  They all expected to walk in and see their friend, their king, dead.  None of them had expected that you, a casual acquaintance to the king connected only through the Kingsglaive, would come in and completely _shatter_ the prophecy.  They hadn’t even thought it possible but, if anyone was going to defy the Astrals it was going to be you.

_“Fuck them.  Just because they supposedly created humans doesn’t mean we need to follow everything they say, they’re not perfect.  Hell, according to Imperial research teams, Ifrit fucked over Solheim and created the daemon plague,” you said as you looked over your daggers issued to you as a Glaive and treating them as needed, “And now the remaining Astrals want humanity to clean up their mess when it would be easier for them to just clean up after their dickhead brother.  Instead they’ve decided to fuel war and conflict between humans every time they do get involved, contradict themselves, and betray anyone that does help them.”_

You weren’t involved in the prophecy that surrounded Noctis, besides being the youngest of the Glaives, the only remaining Glaive, and your… _unique_ personality there was nothing all that special about you.  Nothing that would make you stand out to the Astrals.  Yet, you had a clearer view of the world without first-hand experience than Noctis did _with_ his first-hand experience.  Though, as everything became clear Noctis had to admit you were right.  He would sacrifice himself, but that didn’t mean he’d be _happy_ about cleaning up the Astral’s fuck up only for them to be revered as all-knowing gods.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all mushy on me I went through hell trying to replace my old jacket and I don’t need your big baby tears fucking up this one,” you teased back as you patted his back before pulling away, “You finally found a shirt, you can wipe your own tears now.”

“Get out of here, smartass,” Gladio retorted, pulling back and giving you a soft shove towards the entryway as you made your way out and left for Hammerhead.  You returned, later, with many others, but _somebody_ had to spread the news and scout a safe path for the refugees to return home, and get your family back home. 

Once your mother, older sister, and niece were settled back in a renovated house in the suburbs you grabbed what few belongings you had and relocated yourself to one of the very few livable apartment buildings in the Citadel.  Specifically, the apartment building that all the Crownsguard were living in and the apartment right next door to Iris with the best view of the palace, still being put back together.  It was the best place for you, all things considered.

As you took a slow morning for yourself after moving into your new home, standing in the oversized black and white striped pullover sweater and small briefs you slept in and clutched the hot coffee in your mug as you looked out the window at the Citadel that was still being rebuilt.  All you had to do was keep your mother out of your love life, not die while helping with the rebuilding efforts, behave just bad enough to keep yourself _off_ of the King’s Council (he had to put together a new one since everyone on the old one was dead but being the last Glaive, it was doubtful you’d be able to stay off the Council), and pray that your sister and Gladio were flirting with each other just to pass the time and didn’t mean anything by it.  It was all relatively normal, considering your life.

Little did you know the role you played in fate, and just what fate had done to you.


	3. The Best Leaders Don't Want Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You took your responsibilities to the country and your people seriously, you were even willing to follow Cor's lead until the King was back up on his feet. Frankly, you'd rather continue to follow orders than find yourself in a position to give them.
> 
> Sadly, you were the best one to be giving them.

# Chapter Three

### The Best Leaders Don't Want Power

Reconstruction was focused almost entirely on the integrity of the buildings, making sure they wouldn’t collapse on top of the people they housed.  Currently it was based in the residential and commercial districts that would be most useful to citizens returning home.  The shift in focus, to the soldiers who were focused almost entirely on picking up the pieces of the Citadel, had been a bit sudden but made more sense when it became clear the King had woken and took charge.  Taking comfort in the fact that the Citadel wasn’t the near-wasteland it had been, the Crownsguard and civilians who were helping with the reconstruction turned their attentions as instructed.

Because there were also children in need of being cared for during the day and everyone needed a day off from the intensive work, there were rotations put into place that made sure everyone got at least one day off per week as well as took their turns watching the children too young to help or be left alone.  Civilians typically received lighter duties unless they had proven they were healthy enough or trained to deal with the others.  You were one that generally performed the more dangerous or taxing duties, some of which included warping around buildings that were already on their last leg, and only had one day of ‘babysitting duty,’ and one day of rest.

Every few days you had to gather with the others and discuss progress, future plans, and any orders given by the King who, from what you knew, was still recovering.  You _should_ have checked in, as a Glaive you answered to the King and the Captain of the Glaives which…well you were the last one left so by default it had to be you…

Little did you know, he was actually going to _be_ there.  _Had_ you known you wouldn’t have been wearing your deep blue crop-top, black yoga pants, and old black sneakers.  Oh, and you wouldn’t have left your hair in a messy bun and told your niece that she could not, in fact, spend the night to attend a meeting with you.  To your defense, it was _supposed_ to be your one day off and Cor wanted to have a meeting at eight in the fucking morning when you were on babysitting duty the next day.

He was lucky you remembered to change out of your pajamas and put on a bra, let alone got the eight-year-old out of the pull-out bed the two of you shared for the night (it was your _only_ bed) and ready to go to the meeting.

Your niece Calli, short for Calliope, was absolutely fascinated with the city and learning what everything was like before the Starscourge.  At eight years old, she was one of the few born during the Starscourge that survived but had also never seen a world of peace, or even the _sun_.  Over dinner with your family the night before, you briefly mentioned a meeting at the palace while attempting to get out of meeting someone your mother wanted to set you up with.  That was enough to catch Calli’s attention, but she just couldn’t let go when she learned every meeting took place in one of the many smaller and more casual meeting halls of the palace.  Calli’s eyes lit up and she turned to look with you with big, sparkling green eyes and begged to go with you.

It didn’t help that she was the spitting image of her mother, your older sister.  You, your mother, and your sister all looked strikingly similar, but you stuck out (not only because of your blue eyes so pale they looked silver).  You were the one who, with the slightest twitch, could change from a carefree woman with a good sense of humor, to a frightening assassin trained since she was a teenager.

“Can I go Aunt [Y/N]?  I promise I’ll be good,” she pleaded, putting her smaller hands on one of yours as she begged.  You didn’t doubt she would be well-behaved, the dangers of the Starscourge had forced her to become the best-behaved child possible, and despite thoughts that Cor wouldn’t be too thrilled you just _couldn’t_ say no and it’s not like he was your boss.  So, you let her pack what she would need for the night and took her home with you, just so she could see the palace and learn more about the safe city her family called home.

She sat next to you at the table, her silky blonde hair pulled back into a braid and her big green eyes looking around the room.  It wasn’t the grand hall she had hoped to see, though she had been very excited just by the fact you had a key that would get you through every back and side entrance in the palace, but it was still interesting.  She was full of all kinds of questions.  You had made it a point to keep your family separate from your career, and there was no point in talking about it during the Starscourge, and as a result your niece was still learning a few things, and a lot of her questions ended up being about what your role was in the grand scheme of things.  It was a good question, you were the only Glaive left and while there had been a need for them during the war, the war was over now.  It was a conversation you’d have to have with Noctis, considering the two of you were literally the only ones that _could_ make that decision.

Either way, Calli thought you were the coolest person since Shiva.

She came face-to-face with people, admittedly mostly men, that she had heard were heroes and legends from a better time she had literally never seen, but to you were just friends and colleagues.  She sat with you at the table, sitting upright in her light purple t-shirt, denim shorts, and worn sneakers cleaned as best as she could manage.  She was so invested, you kind of felt bad that everybody would be coming in dressed-down and treating it like a casual breakfast because you literally just saw each other _yesterday_.

“Hey, Calli,” Iris greeted as she sat down next to you, placing a mug of coffee in front of you as she kept her own, dressed in a paint-stained black t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers.  She was helping finish up on some of the shops today and didn’t want to mess up any of her other clothes, so she kept two shirts aside _just_ for painting.

“Hi Iris,” Calli beamed, happily.

“She wanted to come along, see the palace and learn more about the city and Lucis before the scourge,” you explained as you carefully picked up your hot coffee and sipped at it, “Figured I could take her for a short tour around the city afterwards.”

“That sounds fun, where you gonna take her?” Iris asked, like you had a plan for the day.

“Well, she wants to check out the library now that it’s finished, a few monuments, the historical section, the Citadel while we’re here,” you listed off with a shrug, “It’s all up to Calli.”

Iris was about to reply, to keep the discussion going, but the idle chatter in the room instantly stopped when the door opened and not just Cor and Gladio, but _King Noctis_ walked through.  Everyone froze, not sure what to do.  Nobody knew he’d be coming, and while 10 years ago you could have casually joked around with him, you couldn’t do that anymore.  To make matters worse, everyone was dressed down in ripped jeans or worn sweats, paint colored t-shirts or old training shirts, or in your case yoga pants, a crop top, and sneakers.

 _Nobody_ was dressed appropriately, _you_ least of all.

It didn’t help that the last time you saw Noctis you called him a dumbass, and your niece let out a pitiful squeak as she was possibly more surprised than the rest of you.  Every soldier in the room had all met Noctis at one point or another, and expected to see him eventually even though he was more focused on managing the reconstruction efforts as a whole while Cor made sure the Crownsguard didn’t turn into the rambunctious group of hooligans that they really were. 

He wasn’t even going to _try_ to reign in your particular kind of insanity.

They were all highly trained and highly disciplined, but it takes a special kind of crazy to become a Kingsglaive in the first place.  Specifically, the kind of crazy that can crack jokes in the middle of a raid on an Imperial base or try to decide what to make for dinner during a daemon hunt during the Starscourge.  There was one very specific mission that clearly detailed just what kind of psychopath can survive being on the front lines of the Starscourge just two years ago…

_“How many Iron Giants are there?” Iris exclaimed as she threw another punch, her Crownsguard issued gloves getting a workout and her black attire cut in a few places, covered in dirt, and what could only be described as daemon goo._

_You warped past her, leaving multiple mirages behind to distract the daemons as you fired precise Thundagas at the daemon’s backs, “We’ve got half of them already, we got this.”_

_Iris deftly ducked and rolled away from a Giant’s wide swing as Gladio blocked the attack and countered, vanquishing the daemon and counting down, “Five left!”_

_“Don’t act so proud, Amicitia,” you teased as you point-warped to him and threw up a Protega to block another attack before Cor quickly dispatched the Iron Giant, “You can’t cook a marshmallow without setting it on fire.”_

_“Right, and you’re a top chef of marshmallows,” Gladio snorted he ducked around the Protega and attacked another Iron Giant with his baby sister before clearing out so you could land a powerful Blizzaga in the center of its chest._

_“I’ll have you know my marshmallows are roasted to golden-brown perfection!” you countered._

_“Are you guys arguing about marshmallows?” Iris questioned, just to make sure.  She wouldn’t put it past the two of you, you were both experienced soldiers and had a way of cracking jokes when most people would be screaming for their lives._

_“It’s a crucial part of our diet!” you snapped, throwing a few Firaga flasks to keep the Iron Giants scattered and easy to pick off._

_“…Alright.”_

_The crackle of another Thundaga danced around your hands before you raised your arms and let the electricity fly as you cackled and exclaimed, “The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force!”_

_“Really [Y/N]?  Now?”_

Cor had to admit, he was impressed you lot looked as presentable as you did.  Two weeks ago, while everyone was working on the reconstruction of the hospital, he had walked into a room full of highly-trained homeless people competing to see who could tell the most inappropriate joke.  Cor was _not_ amused.

“You guys did know I was alive, right?” Noctis teased through the stunned silence.  You felt like the roles were reversed.  Ten years ago, you were the one always dressed in your uniform, or at least dressed befitting your role as an elite soldier and a professional, while he was the socially awkward prince dressed in a t-shirt and shorts with a button he always seemed to fuck up no matter how many times Ignis fixed it.  Now, you were the tired soldier dressed in pajamas that were barely acceptable to be worn in public and looking like you were at the end of a month-long bender and he was the dashing king well dressed in a black suit and black silk button-up.

“Well, considering your history, we can never be sure,” you retorted, “After a while we just focused on rebuilding the city and assumed you were out catching frogs for Sania.”

You felt your niece, who had been gawking in shock at seeing the hero King, turn her attention to you.  You…how could you _possibly_ speak so casually to the _king_?  Sure, you were cool, but there was no way you were ‘sass the king and get away with it’ cool.

“Right, as long as my dumbass is on that fancy chair your job is done,” Noctis countered with a lighthearted smirk, sitting at the table with the rest of you.

“ _Bedazzled_ chair,” you corrected, sitting back, “But yeah, pretty much.”

“Good to know I can count on you for that.”

Instead of letting your banter overtake the entire meeting, Cor cut in with the latest updates.  It was nothing particularly new, there were a few issues with the electrical wiring in the hospital so you texted Trysta to ask if she could help out.  The continued difficulties lead you all to believe it was a highly technical problem, and being nothing short of a genius Trysta would certainly be able to figure it out.  Sure enough, by the end of the meeting, she texted you back.

_Figured it out.  Already working on it.  I’ll text you if I need any parts._

“That’s my girl!” Gladio exclaimed, earning a look from you that could only be described as _poker face_ as you flipped the spoon you had used to stir your coffee with ease earned from flipping knives around for so many years.  He cleared his throat and looked away, avoiding eye-contact with you at all costs.  The meeting continued, and again there was no additional information, and with the issue of the electricity in the hospital handled the meeting quickly came to a close.  Your niece, who had been sitting perfectly quiet partially because she was well behaved and partially because she was experiencing a fairly massive culture shock, got up with you and was practically glued to your side as you made your way to the door.

“[Y/N]” Noctis caught your attention before beckoning you to follow.  You figured a talk was coming, while the Marshall could manage the Crownsguard and his closest companions could handle some of the other, smaller, details the king didn’t have time for, Glaive matters were something else entirely.  You didn’t answer to anyone else _but_ him, you had been following Cor’s lead to simply streamline things and make sure all official efforts were organized while the king was otherwise occupied.  Now that things were no longer in such a state, and Lucis had a king again, that was going to come to an end.  Still, as you made your way over to the king, he was a bit surprised when the young girl followed you.  He was curious who she had come along with, but wasn’t bothered by her presence in the least.

“I was wondering who brought her along, is she…?” Noctis wasn’t quite sure how to phrase the question.  It didn’t seem right, he couldn’t have imagined you having much time during the last ten years and you would have been awfully young to have a child in the first place.

Frankly, he couldn’t imagine you with kids, _period_.

“Trysta’s, I just let it slip that I had to come here and next thing I knew Calli was begging to come along and learn,” you explained casually, looking down at the still culture shocked girl as her wide green eyes wandered around the halls of the palace, “I knew it was gonna be a bit of a culture shock for her, but I think you showing up broke her.  Normally she’d have asked a few hundred rapid-fire questions.”

 _That_ caught Calli’s attention as she pouted and elbowed you in the hip as you laughed before she shyly ducked her head down again.  You caught Gladio out of the corner of your eye and noticed a good opportunity for you and the king to speak alone.  A conversation regarding the future of the Glaives wasn’t something Calli should be privy to.

“Hey, Calli, why don’t you go hang out with Gladio for a bit?  I’ve got some stuff to take care of and he’ll give you a better tour than I could,” you pointed to the King’s Shield and the young blonde looked over at the man before looking back at you.

“You just want me to leave so you can have a grown-up conversation,” she accused, correctly.

“That’s exactly right, you clever little munchkin, now go bug Gladio,” you admitted with an amused smile, teasing the young girl as you always did.  You weren’t going to lie to her, she was far too clever than that, and she no longer took offense when she was kept out of adult conversations.  She still tried to take place in them, but she didn’t cry or throw a fit…though she was never one for tantrums to begin with.

“But mom says you have _issues respecting authority_.  You’re gonna’ start calling the King names,” Calli pointed out as she stood firm, crossing her arms.

“To be fair, he kind of deserves it, he does a lot of dumb stuff.”

“Don’t worry, Calli, I’m used to it.  I’ve heard worse and I’ve earned it,” the king offered the young girl some light-hearted comfort, “But I’ll let you know if [Y/N] says anything too out of line.”

“Fine, I’ll go and let you have your important grown up conversation,” Calli sighed and made her way over to Gladio, who ushered her elsewhere in the palace, instantly bringing her attention back to learning.  Then, with a nod of his head, Noctis led you through the halls to the office that was once his father’s, but now his own.

“Interesting choice of attire,” he pointed out as he shut the door behind the two of you, teasing you for showing up in what had to be the least appropriate outfit you had.

“Hey, you’re lucky I remembered to put on pants.  I had to get an eight-year-old up and ready to go for an eight o’clock meeting on my day off,” you pointed out as you sat back in one of the seats in front of the ornate desk which was covered in reports, blueprints, city plans, and population reports.  Instead of sitting behind the disaster of a desk the king shrugged off the jacket of his suit and leaned back against his desk, his arms crossed as he looked down at you.

“Why do I feel like you’ve already shown up without pants?” the king questioned, his deep blue eyes narrowed as he mentally chased after something he knew he was forgetting.

“I had pants, I just didn’t have them _on_ ,” you corrected, leaning back in the obnoxiously comfortable leather chair and draping your arms over the back as you crossed your legs, “My smartass got stuck after class and I was running late for training so I changed out of my school uniform on the way and just didn’t have the chance to stop and put on my pants until I actually got there.”

Noctis couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as he admitted, “I’m not even surprised.”

“You know, considering I’m supposed to be one of the country’s elite soldiers, that’s a bit disturbing,” you added through your giggles.  That, however, brought up the topic of discussion the two of you were supposed to be figuring out.

“Speaking of which, what are we going to do with you?” Noctis brought up the elephant in the room, the one that would decide your future.

“That depends on you.  The Kingsglaive was made with the war in mind, now that it’s over and the Starscourge is gone for good, there’s not much left.”  You slid your arms from where they rested on the back of the leather seat and neatly folded your hands in your lap, your position changing as you stopped screwing around and got to work.

“I thought about that too, but I can’t shake the feeling we still need the Kingsglaive,” Noctis explained his thought process, “It almost feels like things are _too_ peaceful.”

“Like the calm before the storm, I hear you on that, but I can’t think of anyone that would try to attack us,” you thought through it logically, “But right now would be the perfect time to do it.  I suppose there’s nothing wrong with it as long as it doesn’t become more symbolic than beneficial.  The only problem is I’m the only one left.  We’ll have to find people who want to join and have an affinity to magic, even if they’re just transfers from the Crownsguard they’re going to need a _lot_ of training once you give them magic.”

“It would be easy for Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis to slip into the Glaive.  They’ve got the most experience, they can already pull weapons, and they’ve got the uniforms,” Noctis pointed out.

“Yeah, but considering they’re also your Advisor, Shield, and best friend we run into the issue that somewhere down the line, somebody’s going to pitch a fit that the Kingsglaive is running the country.  Considering our history with traitors, there’s no way that could end well,” you pointed out, “It’s an easy and ideal solution, but there’s a huge potential problem we can’t ignore.  Still, you’re onto something.  A lot of the problem before was we were _all_ refugees.  It’s easy for someone to sneak in claiming to be a refugee, and three of us turned tail because they couldn’t deal with the fact that peace takes some sacrifices.”

“We can’t just keep it to Insomnia locals,” Noctis pointed out, “There’s barely any left.  Depending on how you look at it there’s _none_ left.”

“I know that, but we can’t keep them out either.  We just need to widen the acceptance parameters and if we get too many people we’ll sift through them and see who would be best.  Anyone else can join the Crownsguard if they want,” you suggested with a bit of a shrug.  It was the best that could be done, at the moment.

“We can’t push for anything right now, not with the entire country in the state it’s in.  We need everyone focused on rebuilding,” Noctis sighed as he uncrossed his arms and reached behind him to pick up one of the many reports on his desk, flipping through it before handing it to you to read through, “I’ll leave it to you to figure out who we want to let in and how they’re going to be trained.”

“Who, me?  The girl who showed up with no pants twice?” you joked, briefly looking up from the report before looking back.  Things were looking better than they had in years, but it was still far from normal, let alone back to the state things had been before the Starscourge.  It had been a long and painful decade for the whole world, but Lucis had been at war before it even started.

“You’re the Kingsglaive Captain now, that’s part of your job,” Noctis pointed out, teasing as he walked around his desk and began rifling through the mess of papers on it.  It was organized exactly how he needed it, there was a method to the madness.

“What?  I have to be on the Council now too?” you pretended to complain as you stood up to take your leave, “I knew you were going to be one of those needy kings.”

“I’ll find a way to pay you back for it,” the king promised with a chuckle as he pulled one of the city blueprints to the top of the pile of papers, looking over it to try to track down just what was causing so many buildings to have electricity problems.

“You better, you still owe me for saving your ass when you told me to run and hide,” you teased as you made your way to the door, carrying the copy of the reports you’d need for the inevitable Council meeting.

“Wait, what?” Noctis looked up.  As far as he knew the Astrals were the only ones responsible for his defiance of the prophecy, nobody had told him about your part.

“Yeah, you were on your way out when I found you.  Gave you a Phoenix Down and an Elixir, figured it saved me when a couple of daemons tossed me around like a rag doll, if it didn’t work nothing would,” you explained, casually mentioning your near-death experience when you gave Lady Lunafreya the chance to escape by holding off the daemons sent in by the Imperials.  You honestly thought nothing of it, it was your job.  You had just been joking when you told the king he owed you.

“I had no idea, thank you I…I completely expected to die.”

“Yeah well, it’s part of the job.  Keep the paychecks coming and we’ll call it even,” you brushed it off before slipping through the door, greeting Ignis as you passed him in the hall.

You weren’t good with sincere moments like this, not even with your own family.  You had always gotten along well with Noctis, found yourself opening up to him more naturally and you felt like it was reciprocated, but that didn’t mean you were any better at being sincere.  Considering your home life, it was no surprise sincerity didn’t come easy to you.

What you didn’t know as you picked up your niece and began your day of bonding with her, was that in his office the king was still obsessing over the fact that, even if the Astrals had given him a chance at having an actual life, it was _you_ that made sure he got to live that life.  As he sat behind his desk he couldn’t shake the feeling there was a reason for that, like it was connected to that damn dream he’d been obsessing over since he woke up from what should have been his death.

What he wouldn’t give to be able to track down that little omniscient furball and get some real answers out of him.


	4. Ordinary People Seldom Change The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were an unorthodox woman, you always had been and always would be, but that was what made you special. Not the magic King Regis had granted you, not the training that made you deadly even without magic, not even the fact you were considered a hero among Lucis simply because of your profession. Your life and view of the world was what made you so pivotal to the state of the world as it was, and nobody even noticed because people are idolized because of what they do, not what they are. People go out to save the world, they set out with the intention to defy gods.
> 
> They don't just stumble into it like you did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long, between school and work things have been chaotic. Plus I had an idea where I wanted the chapter to go but after reconsidering I pretty much scrapped the entire dream scene and had to re-write the scene after that. For long-term Final Fantasy fans, you'll be able to recognize mentions of Final Fantasy 10, 9, 8, 7, and 6 (not in that order), along with 13.
> 
> That being said, a few notes. One, that cauliflower dish is actually a family favorite and my mom did actually come up with it. She also had a really bad habit of burning the potatoes. Also, I was listening to 'Evermore' from the Beauty and the Beast (2017) soundtrack as I wrote the dream sequence so that's why it's like that...sorry for the angst.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: Grammer, changed some wording here and there, got rid of some word repetition that was bothering me. Nothing major, just basic proofreading.

# Strings of Fate

### Ordinary People Seldom Change The World

You made a deal with Calli as you took her to see the sights of the city.  She wouldn’t say anything about your impromptu meeting with the king and you’d make an entire cake for her.  She agreed to the deal, grinning as you walked into the home your mother, sister, and niece lived in.  As expected, Trysta asked how her daughter’s day was as she began dinner, sending you a smile as you walked into the kitchen to help.

“Aunt [Y/N] had a private meeting with the king and she called him a dumbass,” Calli reported as she sat at the small kitchen table and looked at you with a smile.  You ignored your sister’s pointed looks as you shot a half-hearted glare at your niece.

“You little snitch, we had a deal.”

“Your cakes suck.  You should have offered a pie,” Calli explained with a shrug, causing you to scoff in offense.  You were going to reply back, holding back because she was still your niece, you adored her, and she knew that.  It was, honestly, a bit of a game between the two of you.  It was probably bad, definitely not the way you want to raise a child, but it was a hell of a lot better than…

Let’s not go there…best to save that train of thought when you’re alone at home with copious amounts of alcohol…

“You had what with who and called him what?” Trysta turned to you, the wooden spoon she had been using to mix the diced potatoes in the oil and seasoning still in hand.  One thin blonde brow was quirked as her brown eyes peered at you, judging you.  She looked like such a _mom_ , with her long blonde braid draped over her shoulder and one hand on her hip.

“You’re gonna’ burn the potatoes!  Who do you think you are, _mom_?” you accused before going back to chopping the cauliflower.  You tried to, at any rate, at that particular moment your mother came in.  You loved your mother, you did, but you also had a strained relationship with her.  Every time you asked about your father when you were young she would spin a story, when you were older she would simply reply that she didn’t remember, and you _knew_ she was lying.  She had a tell, an obvious tell at that.  She always gestured when she talked, but when she lied her hand gestures became much more animated, her voice increased in volume, and she’d laugh.

“I don’t burn the potatoes all the time,” your mother defended herself, her short and pale bob drying after her shower, dressed for comfort in an old pair of black sweats and white t-shirt after a long day helping with some of the more technical parts of rebuilding the city.  She didn’t have the engineering genius your sister had, but she was still pretty clever.  She was particularly clever when it came to weapons and armor, and everything even remotely related.  All things considered, you were the only one who was really hands on, dealing with the more dangerous and risky parts of rebuilding the city.  You were also the only one who was trained to fight.  Sure, your sister and mother knew the basics, knew how to use firearms, and knew self-defense, but there was no way they were good enough to go to war or fight daemons.

“Doesn’t count if it’s in the microwave,” Trysta picked your side on this as she mixed the potatoes and lowered the heat.  Ever since she started high school, Trysta had been in charge of family dinner with your mom pulling late nights at work and you being too young to make an entire dinner before your Glaive training began.  You both would help when you could, but Trysta was nothing short of a blessing right from Etro.  The three of you made enough for a nice house in the suburbs, it was the whole ‘refugee’ thing that kept the three of you in a small apartment in the city.  It irked you, especially considering your mother was the reason the Crownsguard had their high-grade weapons and you were paid to get shot at by Imps to keep the high-and-mighty jackasses born and raised behind the wall safe.

Then again, getting shot at by Imps was an _easy_ mission…there was no forgetting the mission that involved fighting a Behemoth the batshit Imps had infected with the daemon plague while it was still alive.

Talk about an interesting 17th birthday…

“Ha!” you teased as you began steaming the cauliflower, grabbing the curry seasoning and some butter to sauté the cauliflower for a few minutes after it was steamed.  It was a family favorite, something your mother had come up with years before Trysta was born.  It was quick, easy, and delicious.

“Now back to _you_ ,” Trysta pointed at you with the wooden spoon in her hand and eyed you attentively.

“It was just part of the job.  Glaives answer to the King and the Captain, as far as we know I’m the only Glaive left and that narrows down the list of people I take orders from,” you explained briefly before turning to the steaming cauliflower and acting like it was far more interesting in what you were saying, “We were just trying to figure out what to do about the Glaives, no big deal.”

“You mean you’re going to keep with this life-threatening insanity?” Trysta questioned.  She was proud of you, but she had hoped you would at least take a safer position in the Crownsguard now that the war and the Starscourge were over.  Your career choice was…surreal for the most part.  She knew you were risking your life, she knew there was a chance you might not come back, but it never really _clicked_ until she saw you battered, beaten, and _dying_ as Insomnia was burning.  The most heart breaking part of it all was you were clutching one of your daggers tightly in your hand, sitting back against debris with your eyes closed, blood from a gash on your forehead slipping down your face and dripping from your chin and your empty hand had fallen into your lap after you fell unconscious as you placed your hand on the gash trailing from the center of your bust and down to the right side of your ribcage, all the way to the bottom of it from what you could tell. 

There you were, eighteen years old, dying from fighting in a war, and based on the way your eyes were shut and the peaceful look on your face…you _accepted_ it.  You didn’t just accept it, you were _okay_ with it.  It broke Trysta’s heart, shattered it into pieces, and while there was no stopping you from doing your job she had _hoped_ you would live a peaceful retirement after the Starscourge.

“We don’t know yet, we’re still talking about it.  Insomnia-hell all of _Lucis_ has to pick itself up out of the dumpster it’s in before we can even _think_ about this for more than a few minutes,” you turned away from the cauliflower and explained your lack of answers, even though you had more answers than you let them think there were no answers for now, “We’re a little worried about bigger things.”

“Alright,” your mother stepped in, “Why don’t we drop this for now, at least until we know more about what’s going on.  Hey, I met a guy about your age [Y/N].”

“Neither of us will be sleeping with him, ma, so I don’t see what the point of this conversation is,” you replied instantly as you checked the cauliflower in earnest this time.  You grabbed a frying pan and coated it in butter before dropping the cauliflower into the pan with some curry and a little extra butter.

“Oh, come on, I bet you’ll like him-“

“Ma, we’ve been over this.  Unlike you it takes more than a _pulse_ for me to like a guy,” you retorted as you mixed the cauliflower in the pan, “And if you don’t want things to turn bad I suggest we drop the subject and accept the fact that Aunt [Y/N] has pretty solid plans to _die alone._ ”

You did, to be honest.  You tried dating in high school, never went well.  Eventually they’d find out about your training, turned into a career a few months after your 16th birthday, and after that they either stuck around to hang out with heroes or ran for the hills.  By the time you were 18 you decided you were done with the whole ‘love’ thing.  You’d have the occasional one-night stand, maybe even a ‘friends with benefits’ deal, though those only lasted a mont at most, be obnoxiously careful about making sure you didn’t get pregnant, and then you’d die alone.  That was, assuming you didn’t die a violent death as a result of your career.

The whole going down dying thing didn’t work all that well.

All you had to do was make it through dinner, go home, and then drink as you read what had to be a 50-page report (double sided) as you drank _all_ the alcohol in your apartment.  If there was one industry that wasn’t completely fucked during the Starscourge, it was the alcohol industry.  The world had to have _some_ way of dealing with a decade long darkness riddled with daemons.

 

_He knew this day would come, and it made him sick.  You had accepted your fate from the day you became his Guardian.  It wasn’t a permanent solution, that only made it worse, and while your sacrifice would keep Sin away from Spira for any number of years it would also mean you would come back **as** Sin.  His only comfort was this final summoning would kill him as well, but he would be left without you until the next Summoner and Guardian came to kill you._

_You kept a brave face, placing your hands, which were always freezing, on his cheeks and kissing him softly.  You knew better than to fall in love with each other, but neither of you could help it as his hands, calloused from years of swordplay, took your own and warmed them just by entangling his fingers with your own.  You whispered your love to him before pulling away, a soft smile on your lips as you turned to face the immortal Sin as the man you loved began the summoning that would lead to your demise.  You had to turn away, if he saw your tears he would stop.  He would doom the world for you, and you couldn’t let him do that._

_Tears fell as the warmth that lingered in your hands, the only evidence of the last touch of the man you loved, left and your entire body turned cold._

_You were beautiful, you were always beautiful.  You were powerful, but you always had been.  You held him gently as his life slipped away, the strain of the final summoning claiming him, and gently brushed your hand through his hair as he died.  You didn’t deserve your fate, you were too good.  Even with the ethereal glow of your skin, the power that surged form your form, your silvery blue eyes remained the same.  Even in death they would haunt him as he waited for you._

_He would wait for you, through death and the end of time he would be haunted by the memory of your sacrifice and he would wait for you to join him in the afterlife.  He would be haunted by you and your sacrifice until you returned to his side, and even after._

With an exhausted groan and a glare at the clock on the bedside table, Noctis woke up.  He had assumed freakishly realistic dreams that felt more like premonitions, or in this case a memory, were over.  Clearly, he was wrong.

He sat up, trying to rid himself of the throbbing in his head by rubbing at his eyes with his right hand.  Just as he expected, it didn’t work, just as attempting to stretch away the ache of death and move some warmth of life back into his body failed him.  As much as he would have liked to go back to sleep, having a good two hours before he even had to wake up, that wasn’t going to happen, so the king resigned himself to getting up long before he would have liked.

Two hours later, Ignis found the king in his office already at work.  This only confirmed concerns the advisor had since the king woke up from what should have been certain death.  Noctis had, very briefly, mentioned an inexplicable dream, but purposely dropped the subject and moved onto other things after a few snide comments about cleaning up the Astrals’ mess.  It was enough to appease Gladio and Prompto, keeping them from asking further questions and simply enjoying the fact their friend was still breathing.  While Ignis was fully appreciative of the fact Noctis was still alive, the mysteries of _why_ and _how_ could not be avoided.

Not with Noctis’ particularly unique brand of luck.

It wasn’t a secret the King valued sleep, a result of the tax he payed for the magic that flowed in his blood even if he was not wearing the Ring of Lucii, which was something he actively avoided as it only made him twice as exhausted twice as fast.  That being said, ever since he was a child there was only one thing that would cause Noctis to get out of bed, and _stay_ out of bed, before absolutely necessary.

_Dreams._

Despite that, Noctis had been truly honest about the effect some of his dreams had on him only once.  Since then he had brushed them off as nothing, which he was even more likely to do now.  Ignis wasn’t even going to bother asking what brought the King to get up and out of bed before the sun had risen, instead going right to the point as he shut the office door.

“What was the subject matter of this dream?” Ignis cut right to the point after Noctis asked what time it was.

Noctis let out a long sigh, he should have known better than to try to slip any of it by the Royal Advisor.  Blind or not, Ignis was still irritatingly sharp and there was no getting _anything_ past him.

“I think it was a memory, but the entire thing is so bizarre…” Noctis explained briefly as he was still trying to make sense of it all himself, of course he wasn’t getting away with just that, considering he had no history of amnesia.  The entire paradox was exhausting in and of itself, causing the king to sit back behind his desk as he ran a tired hand through his midnight locks and, once again, tried to make sense of it all.

“Something connected to the dream you had before you woke after your battle with Ardyn I suspect,” Ignis quickly connected the dots, keeping in mind what little he knew of the king’s previous dream as he waited for a more complete explanation.  Noctis couldn’t quite find the words, he had learned how to compose himself as the prince and now the king, but in more personal settings it could still be difficult.  Unlike practically everyone else on the _planet_ , the propriety of royalty was taught to him first and normalcy was second.

“You remember years ago, not long before the war, there were reports of people having memories of a past life.  People who didn’t even live in the same country remembered the same exact thing and the same exact people,” Noctis brought up the abnormality that had taken Eos by storm before being immediately pushed aside when Niflheim attacked Tenebrae. 

People’s memories ranged wildly, from a world called Spira where people had the power to summon creatures of great strength and magic was something everyone had a potential for, to a world where magic was used by an Empire committing experiments on demi-gods to enforce their rule while rebels searched for a way to use that magic to fight the oppressive conquerors.  Their current station in life meant nothing.  Nobles remembered struggling to survive on the streets of the city underneath a larger man-made platform which blocked out the sun, refugees remembered a peaceful and comfortable life on the seaside where they never had to worry about danger as a school where orphans were turned into the world’s best mercenaries was only minutes away. 

Some were remembering war, fear, or a complete lack of faith as the princess even lost faith in the ruling queen, begging to be kidnapped by a tailed thief.  Some even claimed to have seen the Astrals, and others like them, in person and described them in shockingly accurate detail.  Others remembered their home falling from the sky, destined to crash to the larger planet below and doom billions before being caught by a great beast and held by a crystal.

If that was true, if all of those memories were true, the belief that the Astrals created humanity couldn’t be true.  They were simply shepherds at best, more likely higher beings tamed and controlled by the people who summoned them.  They simply guided humanity from world to world, as each world passed into oblivion

Noctis mentioning this phenomenon not only took the advisor by surprise, but brought back something the blinded man had pushed back many years ago.  A memory of his own.  Perhaps _memory_ was the wrong word, it was not a clear recollection of a moment in life, just a general description of a past life.  It wasn’t an _easy_ life, orphaned at an early age he found himself in schooling as a mercenary.  He excelled as a strategist, as he did in this life, but war strategies were his _only_ occupation-even as a sorceress threatened to end the world by collapsing the time-space continuum for one more minute with the love she lost.

“I am familiar with the phenomenon, personally,” Ignis admitted, “It stands to reason you would be as well.”

“Apparently, according my dream, I’ve had a few past lives.  We all have, probably, but the universe was nice enough to set me up with a pre-ordained match I never got a happy-ever-after with.  The Astrals feel bad about fucking that up for me again and let me live so I can try to find her,” Noctis summed up the, frankly, _ridiculous_ situation as he tried to get rid of the throbbing in his head by rubbing at his eyes again before settling for pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t suppose you could _ask_ ,” Ignis stated more than questioned, thinking aloud as he tried to come up with a solution.  This situation would be far simpler if Lady Lunafreya was with them, if only because the Astrals would answer when she asked.  Ignis couldn’t say he was surprised when discovering this pre-ordained match for Noctis was not the Oracle, while the prince and princess loved each other it wasn’t like that.  It was hard to describe, hard to understand, but it was a bond between two people who, consciously or not, knew they were tied to a terrible fate.  Still, it was difficult to believe this match was _not_ connected to Noctis’ role in the prophecy at all, or even to his life.

“I doubt they’d answer.  I may have told Bahamut he can take his fifteen swords and use them to go fuck himself,” Noctis answered simply, not even regretting his choice of words to the Astral, “I’m just going to have to wait until the next dream pops up and hope it doesn’t involve re-living my death, again.”

Ignis couldn't say he was surprised, though Noctis was irreverent to the Astrals throughout his entire life the royal had taken to outwardly defying and disrespecting the Astrals as his prophesied death drew closer and closer.  A side-effect of being personally screwed by them and speaking with you, coming to share your unique opinion of the Astrals-

_That was it._

Ignis couldn’t be sure, but he had an inkling.  He wasn’t about to go claiming he had any solid evidence, not until he did some investigating of his own.  Still, it was odd, wasn’t it?

How you just _happened_ to know when Noctis needed your help when you were standing _outside_  in the courtyard, not even an inkling if what was happening inside.  How you just _happened_ to know what would save his life.  How _you_ were the one there when he defied the prophecy.  How you had _always_ defied the Astrals, and denied their position as gods, having a firm grasp on the reality of their existence without any direct connection to them.  You were a unique personality with an entirely unorthodox view of life, and the world, considering your personal history, but that was what made you so pivotal to Noctis without anyone even _realizing_ it.

_You were the presence in Noctis' life that allowed him to defy prophecy in the first place._


	5. The Brewing Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As more and more facts point to you being the one Noctis is supposed to be looking for, your life becomes far more complicated than it already was and you had no damn clue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo, I'm updating instead of doing homework again!
> 
> There's also some OC/Gladio stuff.

# Strings of Fate

### The Brewing Storm

When Iris suggested taking the kids swimming, you were glad to know it wasn’t just you who found the bright sunny days a lot warmer than the last decade spent in the dark.  With one of many fountains finally repaired, you decided to take the kids to cool off playing in the water.  Sure, one day you’d have to deal with keeping kids out of it but for now, while Insomnia, and all of Lucis, was still rebuilding you would have to take pleasure in what you could.

You slipped off your black cotton shorts and black flats before stepping into the three-foot-deep fountain and helping some of the smaller kids inside and keeping a close eye on them.  The only one you really had to worry about drowning was a small two, almost three, year old boy whom you kept securely balanced on your hip as he clutched to the old sky-blue button-up you threw on, rolling up the sleeves and tying the ends around your waist.  If you had your way you’d be wearing a one-piece to hide the ugly scar that wrapped from the center of your bust to the bottom of the right side of your ribcage, and around to your spine.  As things stood, however, stocking stores with bathing suits hadn’t been everyone’s first concern and you certainly hadn’t bothered to go shopping beyond the necessities. 

You suspected that your sister likely had a one-piece when you asked to borrow a bathing suit from her, but only thinking about the fact that your bust was larger she gave you one of her old bikini’s.  You’d made it a point to keep your family unaware of your scars beyond the smaller ones, such as one on your knee from your first attempt at riding a bike or one on your elbow from somehow managing to slice your elbow during your first attempt at surfing, but the larger and life-threating ones you wanted to keep secret.  It was only the two now, the large one you gained during the attack on Insomnia and a small pucker mark where a bullet pierced just underneath your ribcage on the left side and flew out your back, but you didn’t want them to worry.

Trysta was already worried enough, having seen you at death’s door and okay with that.  You didn’t stop fighting, putting yourself in more pain to remain conscious as long as you could in the off chance someone who could help you would come, but you had accepted the fact you probably wouldn’t survive.  You didn’t want to remind Trysta.

The white and red strapless top was still a bit small around your breasts, pushing them together but not threatening to pop off, but luckily the matching red and white bottom fit perfectly.

Laughing as you played with the kids, your niece almost glued to your side and helping with the younger kids, even the small two-year-old boy when he wasn’t clinging to you.  Carver was a sweet little boy who had lost his parents, like many of the children you were watching for the day, but they had all been taken in by families or others with the means and loving hearts to care for the orphans.  Still, as the woman that had rescued him in the first place you were one of his favorite people.  Had you not known yourself so well, knowing you couldn’t stop fighting in the decade of darkness even for an orphaned child you took in as your own, you would have taken him in.  You were more than willing to settle for being Aunt [Y/N] to yet another child.

It had been a fun morning, but as noon came closer and closer, you and Iris began ushering the children out of the cool water and onto the surrounding grass for lunch.  You and Iris had gotten up at an hour that could only be described as _freakish_ to make sure there were enough sandwiches, snacks, and drinks for the kids.  Carver was comfortable in Calli’s lap, enjoying some sliced fruit, which gave you some freedom to quickly eat your own lunch before going back to watching the kids.  Eating that quickly was something you picked up in basic training, you had roughly five to ten minutes to eat before you had to go right back to work.

You had been so focused on making sure the kids were taken care of, you didn’t spare Ignis a second glance as you saw him approaching.  You figured he was there to speak with Iris, Gladio had been taking off at random times and never said where he was going.  It was only a matter of time until they started trying to figure out where he was going and what he was doing.  You weren’t expecting Iris to call you over.

“Hey, Iggy wants to talk to you privately,” Iris called over before teasingly imitating the man when she said, “ _Official business.”_

That caught you by surprise.  What could there be that you couldn’t talk about that Iris couldn’t hear?  With a furrowed brow, and one last check to Calli and Carver, you left the children in Iris’ solitary care for a few minutes to step away with the Royal Advisor.

“Everything alright?” you asked, concerned about what this could mean.  Even through the rebuilding, there were intelligence reports coming in.  They were slower than before, but still rolling on in and you feared someone was planning on attacking while the country was down.  If that was the case, you’d have to rush out alone while Noctis quickly recruited new Glaives but-

“Everything is fine, I just wished to speak in private.  Most people don’t know about how Noctis managed to survive the prophecy and until certain…suspicions are confirmed or denied it would be prudent to keep it that way,” Ignis explained carefully, and you recognized that.  You weren’t an idiot, or a new recruit.  You were familiar with _not_ talking about things that happened on the job until you were explicitly told you _could_ talk about them, and Ignis was more than smart enough to know that.

There was something he wasn’t telling you, and considering you were at the center of what kept Noctis from the afterlife that sent your mind reeling.  You knew you wouldn’t be able to just _trick_ Ignis into telling you what was going on, he was too bright for that and just as capable as you when it came to getting people to just _say anything_ without thinking.  He’d recognize your tricks, attempting to look cute was entirely useless when trying to trick a blind man, and he would deftly dodge all your attempts to get answers.

“There really wasn’t much to it, I gave him a Phoenix Down and an Elixir injection,” you explained simply as you crossed your arms just under your bust, leaned your weight on one foot, and added, “After the attack on Insomnia I stayed behind to buy Lady Lunafreya time to get away, but it almost killed me.  I was trying to stay conscious but fact of the matter is I have died if mom, Trysta, and Iris hadn’t found me and gave me the same thing.  I figured it brought me from the brink of death, and was still making me jittery when you guys showed up at Lestallum, if it didn’t work nothing would.  Damn thing healed scars I’d had for years.”

“You just happened to know what happened?” Ignis questioned, wondering how you knew the King was sitting in his throne, dying.

“I dunno…something just didn’t seem right.  I mean, the fight was kind of hard to miss and it was easy to notice when it was over,” you snorted in response, “After fights like that, complete silence is never a good thing, and in my personal experience there’s a lot of loud celebrating until the adrenaline high dies down.  Before the attack, after taking out Imperial bases we’d go out and hit the nearest bar or go out on the most dangerous hunt we could find.  So, when everything went silent, it just didn’t seem right and I had to check it out.”

“You were acting on gut instinct and personal experience practically nobody else had, after cheating death yourself…” Ignis was putting pieces together, you could _see_ it, and you knew you were one of those pieces.  You needed to know which piece you were, what it meant, what the puzzle was.  You didn’t even know if you were a big piece or a little piece in the puzzle, but considering he came out to find you instead of waiting until the next time you were in the palace chances were, it was important.

“Your opinion of the Astrals was particularly…unique even before the Starscourge.  Where did that come from?”

You shifted your weight back onto both feet as you placed your fists against your hips, standing defensively despite the fact Ignis couldn’t see you.  He knew you were becoming defensive, of course you were.  You were clever, you found spies, tracked and interrogated them with terrifying proficiency when you were only 18, and ten years later you knew how to sneak through the daemon infested wasteland of Insomnia and peer at Ardyn without being caught and killed. 

“How does that have anything to do with this?”

“You defied Prophecy by saving Noctis, you claimed the Astrals are nothing more than overpowered fools who grasp at godhood, you accused them of doing nothing but citing war and death among humanity, and despite everyone around you saying otherwise you not only stayed firm, but _you were right_ ,” Ignis explained firmly, emphasizing everything you did to disrespect and defy the Six before you even had a real reason to do so.  This was clearly something important, something that stuck out to him.  This wasn’t just about how Noctis survived, this was about how the Six were _defied_ and he looked at you like you were the key.

“I don’t know, it’s just something I’ve always felt.  The closest thing to an actual god, in my opinion is Etro and…well according to the lore she’s dead,” you honestly had no idea where your opinion of the Astrals came from, it was just something you always knew in your heart was right.  Even before Imperial researchers looked into Solheim, Leviathan destroyed Altissia, and it became clear the Astrals were willing to toss a lamb to the fire instead of just cleaning up after their _one_ punk brother you firmly believed the Astrals weren’t worth the breath it took to say their names.  You couldn’t even claim you woke up one morning and came to that realization, it was just something you _always knew._

“And yet you managed to give Noctis the same point of view and gave him the will to fight against the prophecy instead of accepting it, like he had planned on doing…” Ignis was more muttering to himself at this point, clearly thinking aloud instead of talking directly to you.  Ignis wasn’t accusatory, in fact he was grateful you had sparked that sense of rebellion in the young royal back to life after he had all but given up.  Even if it had failed, and he had died, the fact that he _fought_ would have still been a comfort to his friends.

“You gonna’ tell me what this is all about?” you questioned, you had been giving answers and now you felt it was only fair you got some of your own.

“It is not my place to say-“

“Then _whose_ place _is it_?”

Ignis expected that, answering with a heavy sigh, “The king’s.”

He knew that wouldn’t deter you, if anything it would instigate you.  It was an acceptable risk, a good one even.  It would force a conversation, one that _needed_ to happen considering Ignis’ growing suspicions, and they were strong suspicions to begin with.

“Then I’ll be sure to talk to him.”  It was a good thing Ignis couldn’t see the way you raised your eyebrows and smiled out of anger, but he could certainly _hear_ your frustration in your voice before you turned and made your way back to the children you were watching for the day. 

This, admittedly, wasn’t a _safe way_ to get the information he needed to confirm his suspicions but it was the _best_ way he could think of.  Ignis couldn’t even _begin_ to think of how Noctis could explain the situation to you, it was _bizarre_ to be honest.  It would only be a matter of hours, maybe a day, before you made your way to the palace to demand answers, Ignis decided it would be best to make his way back to share his suspicions with Noctis.  They still weren’t confirmed, Ignis doubted anyone _but_ Noctis could confirm or deny anything.

If he had any inkling of the storm that was brewing in your personal life, without your even knowing, Ignis would have put off his questions _indefinitely_.

 

“Pregnant?  You’re…how…when?”

Trysta’s once panicked face flattened to a stern and indignant one.  Gladio wasn’t an _idiot_ , he knew _exactly_ how this happened, so the blonde woman simply stopped pacing and stared unblinkingly at the Shield until he had something better to say.  He knew it, too, when he saw the look on Trysta’s face and the way her hands were placed firmly on her hips as her lips formed a firm line and her brown eyes watched the Shield.  Her t-shirt was still messy from her work in the hospital’s engineering room, trying to fix the boiler before it started getting cold, and her grease-stained jeans were tucked into a pair of old hiking boots.  Her long hair was tossed up into a messy bun, a pen tucked into it because she just didn’t have anywhere else to put it, she hadn’t even bothered with makeup, she clearly hadn’t gotten enough sleep either because of stress or morning sickness-most likely both-and despite all of that Gladio was still struck by the woman like the first time he saw you when Trysta dropped you off at the Amicitia household to study with Iris.

Yeah, asking ‘how’ and ‘when’ wasn’t his best response, to his defense he was in a bit of shock.  Trysta was _insanely_ careful to make sure she didn’t get pregnant again, she already had Calli and her mother to take care of, plus you to worry about.  Another kid on top of that would be… _hellish_.

Trysta’s last experience with romance had not only left her with Calli, one of the best things in her life, but with an irreparable heartbreak that made it difficult to trust.  Perhaps if Calli’s father had simply died in the Starscourge it wouldn’t have been so bad, but a year into the relationship, after finding out Trysta was pregnant, he took off before returning with his wife of four years and two kids.  It’s not like Trysta’s love life had gone well before that, her only example had been her mother, Clair Tamaren, and she was a pretty bad example.  For her safety, and Calli’s especially, Trysta had settled for casual flings like this one.  She made sure not to get pregnant, she was very, _very_ careful.

The entire Tameran family was _cursed_.  That was the _only_ way to explain her life, her mother’s life, and especially _your_ life.

Trysta sighed and hung her head, her shoulders slumping as her hands slipped off of her hips and hung at her sides.  It wasn’t fair to be angry or upset, Gladiolus was just as shocked as she was.  She started playing with the strands of hair that fell out of her messy bun and lined her face, a telltale sign she was nervous and anxious.  Gladio had to be careful with his response, standing up and making Trysta look up at him could put the woman more on edge than she already was.  He didn’t get up from his seat, instead gently placing his hands on Trysta’s waist and pulling her closer.  He placed a gentle kiss against Trysta’s stomach and looked up at the woman with adoring amber eyes.  The woman relaxed, smiled, and began playing with the Shield’s unbelievably soft hair.  It was a sweet moment, and for a second Trysta was glad, Gladio was the father. 

Then he started talking, and, clearly, he forgot he was talking to a _Tameran._

“Hey, it’s gonna’ be okay.  We can get a place close to your mom, Calli can have her own room and-“

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Trysta asked, pushing herself away from the comforting embrace as her pale brown eyes met the Shield’s dark ones.  The way her brow furrowed and her lips formed a straight, firm, line Gladio _knew_ he made the wrong move.  He backtracked, trying to calm Trysta’s fears, but what he _thought_ the issue was and what the issue _actually_ was were two different things.

“I’m not saying we get married, I know you don’t want to and whatever happens happens, I’m just trying to-“

“I don’t care, the answer’s _no,”_ Trysta snapped.  She was an intensely independent woman, a side effect of growing up as the head of the household.  Yes, you and your mother brought in the most money, in fact, excluding the fact it was about a hundred times harder to get a decent apartment because you were refugees, the three of you never struggled to pay the bills.

Between your mother’s busy schedule developing weapons for the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive, as well as designing the unique uniforms made for each and every individual Crownsguard and repairing the piles of gear that were _destroyed_ on Glaive missions she had a full enough plate.  Then your training began, the Captain had a _brutal_ training schedule and you weren’t about to let him down, and after you were given your uniform and given your first mission you could be gone for two days and stuck in a hospital bed for a week, or even be gone for a mission for over a month. 

Trysta was left alone, throughout her later years in high school, university, and even afterwards as Clair was busy working as a field engineer for the Crownsguard and you were either traveling with the prince, taking out Imperial bases, helping Hunters, and doing whatever it was that made you come back and sleep for three days.

Trysta was a strong, brilliant, independent woman.  Fiercely independent, and sometimes it became a fault.

“Trysta be reasonable about this, your house is barely big enough for you, Calli, and your mom just…” Gladio needed to change his tactics, “Please _let me_ help.”

Trysta caved, sighing and softening her stance as she agreed.  She wasn’t about to move in with Gladio, their relationship wasn’t that serious, but as much as she hated to admit it she needed his help.  She wanted him to help, as the father of the baby and because he had filled in helping with Calli when you weren’t able to.  He was a good man, the best, and knowing he would be there made Trysta feel better.

“So…you said you wanted to talk about something,” Trysta brought up the fact that Gladio had been the one to text her, asking to meet.  It had seemed as good a time as any to drop this bomb, and whatever Gladio had to say could have waited until they talked about the bun in the oven.

“Right, uh…Prom and I were going through some old files and we found out something about [Y/N],” Gladio explained, leaning forward so his elbows were perched against the top of his knees and looking off to the side.  Whatever it was had to be big, frighteningly big if they couldn’t go to you themselves.

“What’s wrong?  Is she okay?” Trysta panicked, heart pounding in her chest as she found it hard to breath.

“She’ll be fine…her father’s gonna’ be a different story.”


	6. Lost and Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As everything came crashing down around you, you found yourself quickly discovering that you didn't care. That's not entirely true. You did care, but not nearly as much as you should have. You were a soldier, a fighter, your life was struggle and battle, sweat and blood, and you thought it was going to end that way.
> 
> You lived long enough to see the better future you were fighting for, and you had no idea what you were going to do there, or even if you had a place there in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next chapter are a bit short, they seem a bit filler-ish but they're not supposed to be, and things are still building after five long chapters.
> 
> Sorry.
> 
> :/

# Strings of Fate

### Lost and Confused

“I would expect [Y/N] to be stopping by at some point,” Ignis brought up as he and Noctis were going over what had to be done that day, and what could wait.  Well, it was mostly Ignis talking and Noctis was just standing behind his desk and looking through the letters nobles had sent him before just chucking them in the trash.  He could tell a marriage proposal by the _envelope_ by now, and he wasn’t about to say yes to _any of them_.  That one comment, however, had stopped Noctis from reading through a letter from the Hunters reporting the status of fiends in various areas.  He looked up, his brow narrowed.

“Is she supposed to?” he couldn’t remember _planning_ to meet with you, and he highly doubted you and Cor would decide what to do with the remains of the Kingsglaive HQ by the end of the _week_ , let alone the day.

“I had a…suspicion regarding the identity of the woman your dream spoke of, but I needed to ask [Y/N] a few questions before I could say anything with any certainty,” Ignis explained calmly, “How quickly the two of you bonded was striking enough, but she if she had not been there you _would_ have died.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Noctis groaned as he practically collapsed into the chair at his desk, “She’s going to track me down and demand answers.”

“I did consider that, it will _force_ you to speak with her.”

When Ignis didn’t continue after that, it was _clear_ that conclusion was exactly _why_ he didn’t find an alternative route.  He had considered Noctis struggling to find a way to speak with you, stalling, and failing _entirely_.  While the king didn’t appreciate the fact Ignis thought that risk was _too likely_ , there was a good 21 years of proof that it was, in fact, very likely.

 

It would have been nice if you slept at _all_ before you had to get up for the day, it would have been nice if you had time to go buy coffee so you could make it at home instead of stopping by the wing of the palace the remains of the Crownsguard was using as an office to get some coffee, but it also would have been nice if the peace treaty was successful ten years ago.  Sometimes life just sucks.

Or, in your case, all the time.

You stood at the counter, holding the paper cup as you stirred the sugar in your coffee and just stared ahead.  Your mind was reeling, just trying to figure out how to help your family through the latest turn of events.  You couldn’t say you were _shocked_ , though you knew there were going to be complications at the latest turn of events your sister had announced at dinner the night before, trying to give the news like it was an everyday thing.

Getting knocked up by your little sister’s best friend’s older brother is not an everyday thing.

Getting knocked up by the King’s Shield isn’t even a _once in a lifetime_ thing for 99.99% of the planet.

It seemed simpler than the last time Trysta got knocked up, considering the father was a good guy that actually wanted to be involved and help out.  In reality, it was quite the different story.  During a celebration at a hunt-well-done, you had gone drinking with Gladio and Iris.  It wasn’t long after Calli’s father had taken off and you were still pissed about it, and the fact that your mood got more… _stabby_ after a few drinks didn’t help.

_“I should have asked her out when I had the chance…” Gladio admitted as he leaned back against the bar the three of you were at, his own bottle of beer hanging from his fingertips.  The confession slipped out before his alcohol-muddled mind could stop it, and he knew you and Iris were looking up from the cocktail menu and completely stopped wondering what to try next to stare at the Shield._

_“Yeah!  You should have!” you snapped, angry only because it could have prevented the heartbreak Trysta was going through.  You liked Gladio, you honestly did, and you would have been more than happy if he asked your sister out.  Hell, if you had your way they’d be married by now._

You made sure to ask Trysta when she started dating Gladio, and then she said they weren’t dating.  You played it cool, though you were screaming internally.  You quickly made your way home, pulled out the bottle of tequila you keep in case of emergencies, and didn’t even bother pouring yourself a glass.  You just twisted off the cap and drank it right out of the bottle.  Then you pounded on the wall separating your apartment from Iris’, a shared signal that meant ‘get over here _now_ ,’ and pulled out some shot glasses.  After four shots, poor Gladio ended up getting reamed out by the two of you on speaker phone.

You and Gladio had agreed to have a _long_ talk, but it was going to have to wait until after your talk with Noctis.  Before any of that, though, you had to pop some pain pills and get some coffee into your system.  Iris was still passed out at your place, she had the day off, but you really should have thought first before mixing five shots of Tequila with at _least_ six more shots.

You hadn’t even bothered putting up your hair, just brushing it and letting it fall over to the side after running your hand through it, but you did put on enough makeup to hide the raging hangover and the fact you wished you were _dead_.  Barely having the energy to get dressed you threw on an old dark violet button-up and worn skinny jeans with your black boots.  You were supposed to be scouting the old Glaive HQ, or what was left of it, and surveying the damage with Cor before the two of you met with Noctis to figure out just what in the hell to do with it.  As much pride as you took in your uniform, walking around piles of rubble didn’t require your entire uniform-though you did keep your daggers strapped to your thighs in case you needed to warp somewhere.

“I know that look,” Prompto teased as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “How much did you drink last night?”

“Well, my life has taken a very complicated turn so Iris and I drank an entire bottle of tequila I’ve been saving for an emergency.  On a brief note, I’ve noticed I drink a _lot_ more now that I’m not dealing with life-or-death situations every hour on the hour,” you explained sipping at the got beverage and grimacing at the taste.  It wasn’t too weak or too strong, it just tasted _horrible_ and you couldn’t tell if it was helping with your hangover or just making things worse.  At least it was too hot to get a really good taste of it.

“Oh, thank Astrals Gladio told you,” Prompto practically collapsed as he leaned back against the counter as if a _massive_ weight had _literally_ been lifted off of his shoulders before turning his attention to you, “What are you gonna do?”

“Well, I can’t exactly do _much_.  It’s not like it’s _my_ kid, but I am gonna make sure Gladio at least takes a chance with Trysta.  Seriously, what the hell was he thinking getting involved in a ‘friends with benefits’ relationship with a girl he’s been crazy about for, like fifteen years?  That’s a special kind of stupid.”

“ _What?”_ Prompto questioned under his breath, blue eyes wide as he stepped closer so the two of you could talk without anyone else overhearing, “He’s been hooking up with Trysta?  _Holy shit.”_

“Yeah, and he knocked her up,” you added quickly as you placed your coffee mug onto the counter you were leaning back against.  Sure, it was important and you’d return to that subject, but you were more interested in what Prompto _thought_ you had been told, “Hang on, if you didn’t know about that, what did you _think_ I was talking about?”

“Uh…” Prompto froze in the middle of stirring the creamer in his coffee, keeping it from settling, and he just stared ahead at the wall past you as he searched for a reply.  You stood still and watched the gunner, waiting for his response.  Whatever it was would give you a hint of how big the news was, and that would help you figure out if you wanted to chase him down and pull it out of him.  You had been expecting some rambled excuse or half-assed lie, but the blonde just chugged his hot coffee and took off in a rush.  Leaving your coffee behind, you chased after him, calling after him a few times to try to get him to stop but he wouldn’t.

Yes, there were rules about using magic in the Citadel-mainly you couldn’t outside of specific areas unless it was an emergency-but that didn’t stop you from tossing your dagger into the wall of the hallway Prompto was turning down and warping to cut him off.

“What the hell’s going on, Argentum?” you asked, tugging your dagger out of the wall and sheathing it, your hand still on the hilt.

“Gladio and I were going through the old files to figure out who’s still missing and when we got to your file we found out who your father is.”

He spoke so fast it was almost one big word, but you managed to put the pieces together.  You were frozen for just a second before you moved, slowly, your eyes wide and angry, and Prompto felt _cold_.  Prompto didn’t know why Noctis found you intimidating, as long as you were fighting alongside them there was nothing scary about you, until now.  _Now_ he understood, you were small and terrifying.  Leaning back to try to put some space between the two of you, maybe even a heads up if he had to make a run for it, but he approached the situation as he would with a Behemoth: _no sudden movements or you’ll get your head ripped off._

“ _What_?”

“We didn’t know how to tell you so Gladio was gonna’ talk to Trysta we just wanted to tell you the right way I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”  The words spilled from Prompto’s mouth even faster than when he gave you the big news.  You weren’t entirely sure what to do with the information, though you supposed that depended on just _who_ your father was.  Your expression falling from angry to inquisitive, you had to ask.

“Who?”

Ignoring the fact that Prompto, out of fear, hit an octave that no grown man should be able to hit, you were stunned when he gave you the answer.

“The Marshall.”

You thought you would be angry, everyone did, but you really weren’t.  Should you be?  Maybe you should, you had talked to the Marshall practically every day since the fall of Insomnia, still worked closely with him, and throughout it all he never once told you.  You had been sore with your mother when you were younger, but you got over it.  You couldn’t even say you really cared, the thing that made you chase Prompto down was the fact he was keeping something from you that he thought would be important to you.  You should be angry, upset, you were lied to but…

You didn’t really care.

_You didn’t care._

“Oh…”  Your brow furrowed briefly as you tried to put a name on what you were feeling, or _if_ you were feeling.  A few months ago, your daily life was life or death battles, you didn’t expect to live through the decade of darkness, the assault on Insomnia, and it all seemed normal.  Now you were living a peaceful life, your magic was used only to get to places that were otherwise unreachable, your own paranoia kept convincing you the Kingsglaive was still necessary, and the biggest things in your life were issues that came up in the lives of normal people.  Etro, but you were lost.  You briefly thanked Prompto for the information before walking through the halls, continuing on with your plans for the day as you made your way to the office Noctis spent a _painful_ amount of his time in as king, and knocked on the door.

Being nearby the door, Noctis simply grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, surprised to see you.  He expected you to just barge in without announcing yourself, but you just stood there.  Even as a teenager you always held your head high, sharp eyes quick and cunning, confidant in everything you did.  Now, a grown woman, you stood at his door looking like the lost little girl you should have been when you arrived a refugee.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, tilting his head down and slouching a bit to make sure you would make eye-contact with him as you stared off into the distance.  Your attention did snap right to him, but the expression on your face didn’t change as you struggled to find an answer to the king’s question.  Your brow furrowed and your eyes darted around before snapping right back to meet Noctis’ concerned gaze.

“I don’t think so…” you stepped back before anything could be said or done, and left with that.  Noctis didn’t have a chance to stop you before you turned and walked away, and recognized it was best that he didn’t.  You were just as lost as you looked, and in his experience, you needed space-you were the only one that could find yourself and your place in the new age of peace.  It was the strange thing about soldiers, or anyone who fought for a better tomorrow, but once that better day came the people who made it possible no longer had a place.  Over ten years your life was spent on the offensive, now that you barely needed to spend time on the _defensive_ you weren’t sure how to react.

You, just like he, Ignis, Prompto, and Gladio, needed to find your own place.

 

It was clear you were gone, for at least some time, when you never met Cor at the rubble of the Kingsglaive headquarters.  You were a hellion, but never once had you failed to do everything in your power to follow your duty to crown and country.  It seemed like a small thing, one that would easily be forgotten, but everyone agreed there was no possible chance you just forgot.  Iris, who was recovering from a long night of tequila shots at your apartment and suddenly aware 28 might be a little too old for that, remembered you even came back not long after you left.  She was still mostly unconscious, but you did help her up and back to her own apartment before leaving-locking the door behind you.

“You don’t think she ran off cause I told her who her father is-“ Prompto panicked.  Those most concerned by your disappearance had gathered together in the courtyard outside the palace, after quickly finding you were nowhere within the limits of the reconstructed city.  While Cor was noticeably struck by the fact that _you knew_ , and your mother tangled her hands into her hair as she grabbed the sides of her head and muttered a nervous _oh no._

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ignis interrupted shortly, “[Y/N] is hardly the type of woman to run off because of _that._ ”

“Yeah, she would have just gone home and started drinking if that was the problem,” Iris agreed, she had hastily dressed and ran out the door of her own apartment when she heard you were nowhere to be seen or heard from.  Her disheveled clothes and mismatched socks were enough evidence of her rush to find you, but only recently had she run her hands through her short brown hair in an attempt to tame it.  She even cancelled her plans with Talcott later that evening.

“She’s always been good at hiding, we’re never going to find her unless she _wants_ to be found,” Trysta sighed heavily, exhausted from an already long day.  As much as she loved helping with the kids, Calli being one of them, now handling more than just the one reminded her that was something she was going to be doing _every day_ in a matter of months.

“Right now, she needs space, leave her be and if she’s not back in a few days I’ll go get her,” Noctis once again tried to quell the bustling search party, hands in his pockets and his suit jacket left back in the office, “She’s a soldier with no army and no enemy, she’s lost.”

Trysta tried to argue, something she never would have done with the king she had only met twice before if your safety wasn’t on the line, she would find you dammit, but she stopped when she saw a distant gaze flick in and out of the fighters around her.  They had made the same realization, the same struggle you were making, but you had gone and put it off because you had things to do.  It wasn’t until civilian life came crashing down around you that you realized you had no idea what was going on.  Your previous way of life was over, never coming back, and you didn’t have a backup plan.  Noctis was right, you needed the space.

It would be easier if Trysta knew where you were.


	7. Undeniable Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two days, Noctis had no choice but to ask where Iris had found you during her escape from Insomnia ten years ago. There was no doubt in his mind that was where you would be, it was where you expected to die no matter how hard you fought. He had been in the same situation, he was never going to look at the throne as anything other than the place he fully expected to die. Still, it was an inexplicable connection that formed between a person and the place they expected to die. Inexplicable, but never undeniable-like the connection between the two of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was going to be smut at the end but then it would have been WAY too long, so next chapter will be short but pure smut with some dialogue.

# Strings of Fate

### Undeniable Connection

You had received so much news in such a fleeting period of time, you weren’t sure what to think about it.  It wasn’t Trysta’s pregnancy, or even the fact that she’s been hooking up with Gladio for _two years_ and you had no idea, even though you checked in with Trysta regularly and found yourself on daemon hunts with Gladio just as often.  That had just been the cherry on top of the sundae of lies, and you weren’t even mad about that particular secret.  You got it, after that jackass broke Trysta’s heart you were an overprotective bundle of magic and stabbing.

Still, you knew your mother lied to you about your father.  You just never thought she would keep lying when he was so damn close.  Cor Leonis was a part of your life on a fairly regular basis, even if he was the Marshall and you were a frighteningly young Glaive.  You had personally requested they see if there were any familial matches you didn’t know about, and at the time you thought it was curiosity but now that you knew they _all_ lied to you it became clear you had really wanted to know.  Of course, you wanted to know, you were a 15-year-old girl that had been chased out of your home and into a city where you were nothing but a refugee girl to be thrown to the wolves of war.  You just wanted to know, in case you died.

Yet, after all that news came crashing down around you in less than 24 hours you were just going to brush it off and get back to work.  There was a country to protect and enemies to fight…except the country was safe and there were no enemies to fight.  Even with the paranoia you shared with the king, the two of you would come to the logical conclusion that the Kingsglaive was no longer necessary.  You could just slide into the Crownsguard but, did you really want to?  What _did_ you want to do?

What were you without the war or the decade of darkness?

You didn’t know where else to go, heading for the outskirts of the city where reconstruction had yet to begin.  You needed space, somewhere to think, and as morbid as it was there was only one place you could think to go.

Tossing the bag you had packed, after helping Iris get back to her own apartment and making the decision you needed space.  You didn’t just sit in that one spot all day, you found some travelers making their way to Insomnia, giving them directions to the portions of the city that had been rebuilt or were under reconstruction.  You’d rifle through some of the rubble and find long abandoned memories of people you never met.  Still, you always returned to that one spot, that one slab of upturned concrete you had been leaning back against as life slipped through your fingers.

It was a…strange moment for you.  As you leaned back against the slab and slowly slid to the ground, clutching your wound, you thought you were prepared to accept death in the line of duty.  Then you felt the shock setting in and knew you only had a few conscious moments left in the world before your time would come.  That was it, that split second was when you decided.

_You weren’t ready to die yet._

As you sat against that slab, over ten years later, you remembered the flurry of thoughts that broke through the haze of death that clouded your mind.  You put the pieces together, your basic medic training kicking in.  It would only last until someone found you, _if_ someone found you, but it would give you a chance.  You were going to go down fighting, even if it meant fighting death itself.

You had to fight off the shock, you had to remain in control, and _all_ of your training led you to the only thing that would have a chance: _controlling the pain._

Focusing on the pain, squeezing down on your wound to bring your full attention to it, brought you right out of the haze of death and to the present.  You cried out, jolting forward before jerking back against the slab, you would have cracked your head against it if the metal visor of your hood, thrown back in the flurry of the fight, hadn’t protected you.  You once again felt the blood trailing from the slice along your hairline above your left eye, it hurt like a bitch but you opened your eye and felt the stinging of your blood hitting your eye.  You had to remain in pain at all times, it would keep you conscious and allow you to find a way to treat your wounds, if nobody came to rescue you.  You were out of potions, you gave Lady Lunafreya all of your curatives as you told her to make your escape.  You would have to deal with this the old-fashioned way-

Then you heard it, Trysta’s anguished cry as she saw you from a distance.  You peered over and saw her with your mother, the Amicitia family butler, a young boy, and, most importantly, Iris.  Iris was training to be a Crownsguard, she was an Amicitia, and there was no doubt she had curatives in that backpack she was carrying but none of that was really why you hoped your best friend would be the one to find you.  She was good with hand-to-hand combat, but that wasn’t her primary roll.  She was a _healer_ , that was were almost _all_ of her training was and she was _damn_ good at it.  If she couldn’t save you, then you were a lost cause from the start.

You felt a small smile form on your lips before leaning your head back and letting your eyes shut, exhaustion carrying you away into unconsciousness.  You had fought as long as you could, as long as you had to before Iris frantically pressed that Phoenix Down into your hand and injected that Elixir into your vein, revealed by a gash in your coat from where a Fire Bomb clawed at you.

You remembered slipping into unconsciousness as the potent mixture sent your magic and your body into overdrive, healing not only the wounds you had gathered but scars from missions you thought would never vanish.  Days later you were still shaking, and while some wounds still remained the gash that should have killed you was already scarred over.

As ghoulish as it seemed, you were _supposed_ to die right at this spot.  You saw the old blood stain in the concrete and recognized it as your own.  You remembered a long flurry of dreams during your unconsciousness.  The only dream you clearly remembered had you curled in a ball in a black world, your only company being a small foxlike creature sitting by you and praising you for defying fate and changing the world in more ways you could even know, his small paw placed on your hand as he looked down at you with wise eyes.  From there it was a flurry you couldn’t even keep track of because they just blurred into each other.

It started as you felt a cold and foreign rush of power flowing through your veins, holding the man you loved as he died and when he did the world around you changed from the ethereal world around you to a castle you felt you knew well at the end of the world.  You felt yourself sob until you had no strength left, leaving your love there as you hatched a plan, a selfishly evil plan, to compress time and give you the power to make sure this never happened.  Using power only you had, you stepped through time only to find yourself fighting as soldiers pulled you away from the man you loved, reaching out to him and never caring about the black mark on his arm that would grow and open to reveal the red eye in the center.  You wouldn’t let them throw him to his death, or _worse_ , because he was marked by something society was _told_ to fear.  You fought through the guards to reach him but, why was he going with them?  _No, don’t get on the train, don’t go with them.  Fight, fight, please, you’re all I have.  I love you.  Please, please don’t leave me.  I can’t be alone again._

They just kept blurring into each other, and you were grateful to wake up to escape the rest that had turned from peaceful to stressful, appreciating your unexpected survival came later.  It was all so confusing, so inexplicably heart-wrenching just to think about even now you found your throat clench and your eyes burned.  The second you woke up you felt you lost part of yourself, but that wasn’t even an apt description.  It was more like you _realized_ you were never whole, and all you could do was focus on the war to distract yourself from it.

Now you sat where you should have died, your legs pulled close as you watched the sky above you, enjoying your chance to view the night sky without daemons attacking and with the knowledge there _would_ be a sunrise.  You heard footsteps drawing closer until they stopped directly in front of you, causing you to move your gaze from the sky to the man standing before you.

“I knew I’d find you here,” the king teased lightly as he looked down to you, his hands in the pockets of his black dress pants more decorated than secured by a neat black belt, the matching suit coat unbuttoned and black silk button-up neatly tucked in.

“I’m toying with asking how, but I can’t tell if I actually care or I’m just trying to make conversation,” you joked back, your heart not really in it, as the king stepped around the rubble to sit next to you.  You couldn’t explain it, you couldn’t say you were particularly close to Noctis, but even before the Starscourge you felt so… _comfortable_ around him.  You forgot about that empty feeling in your gut and, while the emotional wounds and scars never went away, they healed just a little bit faster and hurt just a little bit less with every minute.

Noctis chuckled, quietly, before he answered simply, “You expected to die here.  Whatever anyone says, this is where your life really changed.”

“It’s not like I just gave up-“

“I know, you’re too much of a hellion just to roll over and give up, but you’re not stupid either.  You know when the odds are against you,” he turned to look you in the eye, knowing you were looking up at him when you began to argue, and just from the look in his eyes you _knew_ he meant it when he said, “I know what it’s like, to fight death and win when you expected to lose.”

You were silent for a few moments, your eyes breaking away from his as you looked down before turning your head to once again lean back against the concrete slab and look up at the stars.

“You don’t go back to the throne all that often,” you pointed out, reminding him that your return to this pile of rubble stained with your blood was a bit odd.

“Not publicly, but there are times when I go back and make sure I’m not dreaming, just sit there and think or let my mind go blank.”

It was an awkward thing to describe, the kind of connection you formed with a place you expected to die, especially in your position.  The two of you accepted death, fought against it but were well aware you would likely lose, and yet you still survived.  Living to see days you never expected to, dealing with problems and questions you never expected to face.  Sometimes you had to take a step back and go back to that time and place and wonder, _was there a reason I was supposed to die here or is there a reason I didn’t?_

“You’ve been gone a few days, people are getting worried you won’t come back.”

“Says the man who came all the way out here to find me,” you teased, real emotion put into your voice and the smirk on your lips.  A few minutes with the king and you felt yourself again, not because he was the _king_ but because he was _Noctis_.  You always found it easy to connect with him, talk with him, though you had to admit you were curious as to why the easy friendship never went past mere acquaintances before the war hit home.

“I never said I wasn’t one of them, but I know you can take care of yourself.  What worried me was the fact you said you weren’t alright.”

Made sense, you didn’t have an angry outburst at the news as much as you took it in stride and decided to focus on one problem at a time.  The first thing you had to deal with was that line of questions Ignis approached you with, on behalf of Noctis, and you made your way up the stairs and through the halls to the king’s office.  By the time you got there, everything had time to settle into your mind and you were just left quiet, knocking on the door instead of just walking in like you had planned.  The second he opened the door, he saw you standing there and looking despondent, and the only other time he had seen you like that was when you told him what happened in Insomnia.

_“Hey, you alright?” he asked, tilting his head down and slouching a bit to make sure you would make eye-contact with him as you stared off into the distance.  Your attention did snap right to him, but the expression on your face didn’t change as you struggled to find an answer to the king’s question.  Your brow furrowed and your eyes darted around before snapping right back to meet Noctis’ concerned gaze._

_“I don’t think so…” you stepped back before anything could be said or done, and left with that._

“I’m still not all that sure,” you admitted as your head fell to the side and you looked up at the king, who had turned his attention back to you, “But I guess it’s about time I head back home anyway.”

Noctis smiled and chuckled lightly as he replied with a light, “If you wouldn’t mind, things kind of suck without you.”

Chuckles turned to laughter as you replied with, “Well, yeah.  I’m awesome.”

“At the risk of stroking your ego, I’m going to have to agree,” Noctis replied with a smile, holding his hand out for you and hoisting you up, “Let’s get you home.”

 

“How have I never thought of that?” Noctis questioned, completely amazed with the information that you had just given him, if he found that out years ago he could have prevented a multitude of kitchen fires, almost-fires, and ruined attempts at making dinner.  He couldn’t help but wonder why in the hell you packed a _frying pan_ and a _pot_ to camp out on the outskirts of Insomnia.  It’s not like you had a kitchen set, and there was no effective way to use your average frying pan over a camp fire.  Then you told him you just held a fire in the palm of your hand and held the frying pan over it, same way you helped make dinner when the power in the apartment went out for a week when you were 17.

“You’ve lived your entire life with magic, you never wake up one day and think ‘I wonder what I can do with my new superpowers,’” you pointed out as you unlocked your apartment door and held it open for the man holding your bag, “You’ve also never lived in a place where the electricity would shut off cause the landlord took the rent and bought cocaine with it.”

You suddenly remembered that the only people you could make that kind of joke around were your fellow refugees, specifically the ones that had been refugees before the war hit Insomnia.  People who never lived with boards on the windows to keep out the chill didn’t really understand that kind of humor, you remembered when Noctis gazed at you with widened eyes filled with a mixture of shock, pity, and hope you were joking.

“That’s a joke…I mean it actually happened but we were joking about it like a week later,” you quickly tried to cover up with a casual shrug as you led Noctis into your apartment and adding as you shut the door, “My entire family is going to hell because of the jokes we make…you can toss the bag on the island, you want a drink?”

“That sounds great, what have you got?”  Noctis lifted the bag onto the kitchen island and watched as you walked into the kitchen with an amused snort.

“Beer, bourbon, vodka, tequ-oh, wait Iris and I killed the tequila,” you listed off, also mentally registering what you had to buy.

“The bourbon sounds good, it’s been a long two days with everyone nagging me to find you,” Noctis teased, running a hand through his hair to brush it out of his eyes, and watching as you grabbed two half-glasses in one hand and the bottle of amber liquid in the other.  With a practiced hand, you placed the glasses down, twisting off the cap and half-filling the glasses before twisting the cap back on and grabbing your own glass.  Even without the buzz of the alcohol, there was no ignoring the natural sway of your hips as you stepped around the island to sit on the stool next to Noctis.

This was a bad idea, he should just finish his drink and go home before he did something he’d regret-or worse something that would complicate things even further than they already were.  Every intelligent voice in his head was practically _screaming_ at him to leave, let you be alone to work through your plans and how to deal with the massive changes your life had taken in the last three days.  He couldn’t help himself, just talking with you was a drug, that laugh of yours infectious, the mischievous glint that never left your silvery blue eyes, and that crooked smile was utterly perfect.  One drink led to two, and two led to three, and three led to…so much more than just a few drinks.

He wasn’t going to regret this, he was never going to regret this even if it caused the entire world to burn down around him and take him with it.  He was never going to regret placing you on that kitchen island as he attacked your neck with his mouth, the way you clung to him and left scratches down his back and biceps.  It was too perfect to regret.  There was an entirely undeniable connection between the two of you, he just wished he hadn’t found out so late.


	8. Stay The Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, but to be fair I warned you last time it was going to be short.

# Strings of Fate

### Stay The Night

Noctis picked you up and placed you on the kitchen island without breaking the kiss, with an ease and swiftness that impressed even you.  You were so wrapped up in the kiss, your arms draped over his firm shoulders and one hand playing with his hair, you didn’t notice until you were placed on the island and the flesh of your thighs revealed by your shorts met the cheap plastic that covered the counter.  You trailed your hands over Noctis’ shoulders, down his chest, and clutched at the jacket of his suit before pushing it open and off his shoulders as much as you could.

Without separating his lips from your own, because fucking hell was kissing you the best thing he’d ever done in his life, he shrugged off the jacket of his black suit and tossed it to the side.  He didn’t want to pull away, but as his fingers teased at the hem of the t-shirt you wore under your oversized flannel shirt he realized he was going to _have_ to at some point.  Might as well get that over with quickly, he reasoned, as you let him push the flannel button-up off your shoulders before he pulled away to practically rip the old band t-shirt over your head and tossed it somewhere.

He quickly changed his plan of attack, trailing kisses down your sensitive neck-a discovery he greatly enjoyed-and occasionally stopped to nip and suck marks into your skin as you unbuttoned his shirt and tugged at it.  You felt him chuckling against your skin as he picked you up again, carrying you across the short distance of your apartment to the pull-out couch that served as your bed-you hadn’t bothered folding the thing back up since you gave up on buying an actual bed for the bedroom that was now a glorified storage room.

You yelped when Noctis just _dropped_ you onto the bed, caught by surprise for a brief moment before amusement set in as you kicked off your shoes and briefly bent your knees so you could quickly tug your socks off, watching the king as he quickly pulled off his silk shirt and threw it aside-like everything else.  He made quick work of his belt while he was at it stopping to look down at it in his hands before his eyes, turned violet from the red that was edging into them, and looked back at you with a wicked smirk and a raised brow.

“Careful now, your majesty,” you teased as you leaned back on your elbows, your lips puckered into a coy smirk, “Check the waters before you dive into the deep end.”

“That’s not a _no_ ,” he pointed out, letting the belt drop to the floor with a clang of the metal buckle as he kicked off his shoes and socks before he knelt onto the bed and moved to hover over you, muscles flexing as he did so.  He looked good all dressed up like a king, but those suits did not do the man justice.

“It is this time,” you clarified, purely amused as you leaned back on the cheap mattress covered by cheap sheets, trailing your hands up Noctis’ toned arms and to his chest with a teasingly light touch that pulled a deep hum-almost a growl-from the king’s chest.  Your smirk turned into a smile as you chuckled, the king lowering himself in a mock push-up to kiss you deeply before pulling your pouty bottom-lip between his teeth and slowly pulling away.

“Next time, then,” he promised darkly, lowering himself to his elbows and leaning on one as his other hand trailed down your waist and to your shorts, flicking the button undone and pulling the zipper down.  You were prepared to help him pull your shorts off, but he pushed himself up and pulled them off of you and tossed them over his shoulder.  When he looked back down at you he was about to toss your shorts over his shoulder but ended up letting them drop to the mattress instead-you had unclasped your bra and held it in your hand, prepared to toss it over the back of the pullout couch, while he wasn’t watching.  You tricky little-

“As much as I appreciate you taking your time, I got a little impatient.”  That coy smirk returned as you tossed your bra aside, before you realized Noctis wasn’t just admiring your mostly naked form, but that horrendous scar that marked the wound that _should_ have killed you.  He had scars himself but, as terribly sexist as it sounded, scars were a mark of strength and pride for men and just another reason to be insecure for women-especially one as nasty as yours.  He pressed a gentle kiss, you’d call it loving if you had a logical reason to, against it as a hand lightly trailed over the scar until it reached the point where your back met the bed.  It was a tender moment, but short lived as he relocated his hot mouth to your breast, leaving a trail of kisses from the swell of your breast to your nipple where he began teasing the pert flesh, flicking at it with his tongue and nipping gently.  You arched your back into the sensation, the sounds you let out only urging him further as, for once in your life, you just sat back and _let_ things happen.

You reached down tugging at Noctis’ pants as you unbuttoned and unzipped them, and the king once again chuckled against your skin as he caught the hint, pulling back to push his pants and boxers down to where he could kick them off.  He immediately turned his attention to your panties, tugging them off and throwing them over his shoulder as he latched his mouth to your clit, paying it the same attention he did to your breast.  You entangled your hand into his hair as he began teasing your entrance with his tongue, his fingers attending to your clit gently, teasing you as you whined for more until you were caught off guard by a quick shock to your clit.  The sensation was pleasurable but intense, even with how instantaneous it was, but you recognized it instantly.  You sat up, leaning back on your elbow, as you looked down at the smug king who was now pressing teasing kisses against your pelvis before he rested his chin there, looking up at you with smug red eyes-more proof he was misusing his magic.

“You’re not the only one who abuses magic,” he smirked wickedly at you, sending another short, weak, jolt of electricity to your clit and let it trail down to your dripping core before it dissipated.  You threw your head back, arching into the sensation as much as you could, as you made a sound that only spurred Noctis on more.

“Noctis,” you sighed, almost whining as you felt your orgasm trailing closer and closer as Noctis continued to alternate between flicking and toying with your clit and making you cry out with his continued abuse of magic.  He trailed kisses up your stomach and back to the swell of your breast, leaving a series of marks trailing from it to your collarbone as he toyed you into orgasm.  You cried out as your muscles tensed briefly before relaxing as you fell to your back, all sense vanishing as you reached an orgasm by someone else’s hand for the first time in too long-and _fuck_ did he know what he was doing.

Gentle kisses to your lips brought you out of your daze, and you found the strength in you to wrap your arms loosely around his neck, moaning into the kiss as Noctis rubbed the head of his erection against your core with a roll of his hips.  You pulled away, only far enough for your sharp, pale blue eyes to meet his deep red ones fiercely.

“You don’t wanna find out what’ll happen if you _don’t_ stop teasing and fuck me,” you whispered against his lips, your tone teasingly gentle and seductive, but Noctis was well aware you could back up those words.  Still, it was cuter than it was intimidating, and he chuckled as he pressed his amused smile against your angry pout.  Reaching down to position himself at your core, he pushed into your core, the two of you moaning into the kiss as you left small scratches against his back in an attempt to find purchase.  You were still sensitive from your last orgasm, and it felt damn good as he filled you, a pleasurable ache as you stretched around him.  The two of you fit perfectly together, as stupidly sappy as it sounded-you blamed your sex addled mind for that thought.

He gave the two of you barely enough time to adjust before he started moving, slow and steady as you wrapped your legs around his waist and rolled your hips against him.  He lowered himself to lean on one elbow as his other arm moved down so he could hold your hips at that perfect angle with a tight grip on your ass, something which he’d been, and would continue to be, caught admiring a few times.  With one hand clutching at his back and the other at Noctis’ bicep, both leaving scratches as you clung to him for purchase, your kisses became sloppier and sloppier as you felt another orgasm pushing its way into your veins.

His hand left your butt, as he positioned his thumb at your clit and began the same torture that sent you into that first orgasm.  With one last, literal, shock you were sent into an orgasm more intense than the last as you clenched down around him with a loud cry, your head falling back as you left more scratches in Noctis’ pale skin.  He followed quickly afterwards, tumbling into his own orgasm as your wet heat clenched around him, hanging his head so his forehead rested against the crook of your shoulder and neck as he groaned and instinctively buried his cock as deeply as he could within you.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments before all sensation left your bodies.  Noctis fell to the side as he pulled out of you, his head still buried in the crook of your neck at an awkward angle and your legs tangled together.  It took a few minutes for the two of you to catch your breath and get back to a point the two of you could, at the very least, function like human beings.  As much as you wanted to stay there and sleep, there was something nagging at your mind keeping you from doing so.

Untangling yourself from Noctis, you sat up and moved to the edge of the pull-out bed, pulling the man from his near-sleep.

“Where you going?” he asked, stretching away the drowsiness so he could at least stay awake for your answer.

“Shower,” you answered simply, standing up and fully expecting Noctis to stay put as you made your way down the short hall and to the bathroom, but found yourself laughing when he caught up to you with a hand at the small of your back.

“What a great idea, how about some company?”

 

“Relax, Trysta.  Noct went out to find her and she’s back, _trust me_ ,” Iris explained as she balanced her cellphone between her shoulder and ear, calming your concerned sister over the phone as she picked the spare key to your apartment out of her key ring and unlocked your door.  She’d knocked three or four times, and only recently received an answer of _in a minute_.

_“I’ve tried calling-“_

“She probably hasn’t charged her phone in two days, she’s fine,” Iris replied as she opened the door, catching you and Noctis like spiracorns in a spotlight as Noctis finished buttoning up his shirt and you stood in front of the front door, dressed only in an oversized t-shirt and briefs.  By the looks of things, you were going to run interception as a distraction, letting Noctis sneak out, but with how much Trysta had been calling Iris, the younger Amicitia wasn’t about to waste any more time.  She didn’t say anything, just held out her cellphone for you and you took it, bringing it up to your ear.

“Hey-yeah I know, Trysta, it’s a long story and-well sorry if I wanted to take a break longer than a brief nap, I haven’t exactly had that luxury for _ten years_.”

You walked off into the bedroom-turned-storage room and shut the door so you could deal with this conversation privately.  As you did that, you left Noctis and Iris alone in a silence that…well he found it to be awkward, Iris was mostly indignant to the entire situation.  That was mostly because she lives next door and the walls might as well be made of Paper Mache.

“Uh…this isn’t what-“ Noctis attempted to explain as he shrugged on his suit jacket, but Iris cut him off.

“I live next door, and we have very thin walls,” Iris replied, irked at having been kept up for most of the night before she yawned out, “Give me a heads-up next time so I can crash at Gladi’s.”

“Well, we don’t actually know if there’s going to be a next time,” Noctis admitted, avoiding eye-contact as he kept one hand in his pocket and the other scratched the side of his jaw, realizing his scruff was-yet again-quickly getting out of control.  He couldn’t say _he_ cared that much, he’d rather just let it go then try to keep up with it, but then he’d be a 31-year-old king sitting through a ‘keeping up with appearances’ lecture and they were bad enough ten years ago when he had an excuse.  It was just easier to shave.

“Why am I even surprised?” Iris sighed as she hung her head, not the _slightest_ surprised simply because _you_ were involved.  Last time you even _considered_ a long-term relationship was _high school_ and it was just so _typical_ of you to get yourself into a mess like this.  Frankly, she wasn’t all that surprised Noctis was involved either.  They heard the spare room door open and close and looked up to see you joining them, holding Iris’ phone out for her.

“Well, I’m going to let you two talk about whatever’s going on _here_ and pretend I don’t know anything,” Iris took her phone, and her leave, giving you a pointed look.  She wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t know anything.  The _second_ she had you cornered and alone she was going to bombard you with questions, and if you didn’t have answers she was going to hit you with even _more_ questions until you promised to get answers.

Then you’d have a total 24 hours to get the answers before the hellish cycle started all over again.

“About last night…” you started awkwardly, not quite sure how to say what needed to be said, “It was better than great…”

“Yeah,” Noctis agreed before he quickly added, “But it probably shouldn’t happen again.”

“Exactly,” you pointed at him briefly as if to gesture you agreed with him completely, crossing your arms as you leaned back against the island before remembering what happened _last_ time you did that and pushed yourself off of it.  Making your way to the door to politely let Noctis out, running your hand through your still messy hair as you did so.

“But, we can still spend time together,” you pointed out as Noctis followed you to the door.

“As friends.”

“Yeah, cause we’re friends,” you couldn’t stop yourself as you added, “But if something else happens, it happens.”

“Whatever happens, happens,” Noctis nodded, that statement had been the approach he applied to most of his life, he could live with it applying to this as well.  He didn’t _regret_ what happened last night, based on your actions neither did you, but it probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Right.”

Unbeknownst to either of you, Iris was listening in with her ear pressed against the door and as soon as the doorknob turned she backed away and, very poorly, pretended to be very interested in the ugly wallpaper lining the hallways.  You briefly shot her a glare, she’d been caught, but waited until you said your goodbyes with Noctis before you turned your attention to your spying friend.

“Spying, really?” You snapped, your hands on your hips, after waiting until Noctis was making his way down the stairs as the elevator _still_ had yet to be fixed.

“Says the _Glaive_ that’s _just friends_ with the _king_ that left _hickies_ all over her neck!”

She had a point, but it was going to be a few weeks before you admitted that.


	9. Kids In The Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were making due with your life, finding a way through the chaos of finding your place after the war. The nobility returned to the city, and with them they brought the remains of the previous Council, and those that inherited the positions after Insomnia fell ten years ago. That in itself was going to lead to changes you were barely ready for, but these dreams...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap I'm updating. This thing is also about 9 1/2 to 10 pages on Word so hopefully that makes up for the long wait, assuming the quality is good. I wrote it at work when I got stuck on a double with no warning. I also listened to Kids In The Street by All-American Rejects on repeat while writing the dream/flashback because I feel the song captures the mood I was trying to get.
> 
> Also, quick note: Soldiers trying to adjust back to normal life is a legitimate issue, especially during or after wartime. They live an entirely different life for years, a taxing life both mentally and physically, and when they come back it’s hard to adjust and find people to connect to. Some people struggle with it the rest of their lives, and that’s not even counting issues like PTSD, depression, and all the other issues they have to deal with on top of the wild adjustment from soldier to civilian.
> 
> All of that being said, Rea has an advantage in that her live was relatively normal for the most part. She had school, went home to her family most nights. She would often go out on missions and assignments, but she would return home and found a way to balance the two when she was young. However, she always had her training or the war on top of that. There were always those times she had to pick up and take off, rushing off somewhere without knowing if she was coming back alive or not, let alone with all of her limbs. That was just life. So, while she does not have to struggle to find a way to reconnect with her family, outside of family drama of course, she does still have to figure out what she’s going to do when she doesn’t have to pick up and rush into life-or-death situations at a moment’s notice. Especially since that’s all she’s been doing for over a decade, and during the Starscourge it’s fair to say things got a lot worse, partially because she wasn’t fighting armies anymore. That was a ten-year war against monsters, demons, and the apocalypse. She’s lost part of her identity, and she’s gotta figure out what else there is to her.
> 
> I know that a lot of people are probably already aware soldiers have this issue when they return home, and I try to make it as clear as I can in the story itself, but I just wanted to explain.

# Strings of Fate

### Kids In The Street

Alright, fine, it wasn’t the best way for you to have dealt with your problems, but to your defense it _did_ help.  Having someone to connect to, for the first time in a decade, really did help you.  Sleeping with said individual wasn’t necessary, but to be fair a good orgasm can help clear the mind.  It wasn’t just the _one_ , but you had a _lot_ on your mind.  None of this ended the series of questions Iris attacked you with.

“So, you’re just friends.”  She repeated, unbelievingly, as the two of you worked on one of the many homes in need of renovation, especially with more people returning to Insomnia every day.

“Yup.”  You stopped moving the shingles to the roof, warping your way from the ground, to the roof, and then back again to ease the chore.

“Friends with _benefits?”_ she waited until you were on the ground again to ask her question.  She would honestly be surprised if Prompto, who was working on the roof, didn’t know.  Still, there were others around and she was aware of the fact this wasn’t something they needed to know.

“No, just friends.”  The answer was short and simple, as you were grabbing more shingles to take two stories upwards.

“Is this a girl talk thing, or can I join in?  Cause it’s getting boring up here by myself,” Prompto asked as he took a few of the shingles from the box you just dumped onto the roof, getting to work securing them to the suburban two-story.

“Girl talk.”  You brushed it off, just because you suspected he knew didn’t mean you wanted him to join in the conversation.  Bets were, he would join Iris’ side, and then he’d start bothering Noctis with the same stuff.  Iris was making her way up the ladder to help finish repairing the roof, and you weren’t surprised Prompto asked her what the two of you were talking about.  As long as you had known the two of them, you knew they would talk about _anything_ , sometimes just to _talk_.  Being certain the king had told his best friend about the happenings between the two of you, Iris simply answered.  She was looking for an ally in her nagging, and Prompto would be a good one.  Neither of you were prepared to learn that Prompto, in fact, did _not_ know.

“Oh my god,” Prompto whispered to himself, widened blue eyes turned to you.

“You didn’t know?” Iris questioned in shock, her brown eyes panicked as she looked from him to you, looking for a clue on what to do.

“It doesn’t mean anything, there’s no reason to gossip, or even talk about this.  It was a one-time thing.”

There was the matter of those strange questions Ignis asked you, just before your world view went belly-up, then rolled over a few more times for good measure.  You didn’t have a chance to raise any questions about it, not with helping Trysta and Calli move, on top of babysitting your niece on occasion, and rebuilding efforts.  As complicated as things were, along with trying to find your place in a civilian world, you didn’t feel you could handle _any_ relationship, even if you hadn’t reasoned that to be impossible when you were just a teenager.  A relationship as complicated as one with Noctis, entirely due to his station in life and the world, was something you might not be able to handle _at all_.  Besides, you were a bundle of crazy before you even started your Glaive training, the trials of war and the ten-year daemon-filled night.  You were willing to bet you were _actually_ certifiable by now.

“But-“ Prompto tried to speak up, he had a legitimate argument to make, but you never gave him the chance as you plucked your dagger from the roof and flipped it around in your hand.

“We were drunk, it was a one-time thing, and we both had some stress to work out.  Let it go, Prom.”  You were firm, though the dagger in your hand was hardly hostile.  It was just easier to keep it in hand than to sheath it only to pull it out seconds later, as you needed to make your way back to the ground and check out the interior of the house.  A few of the other homes had some more dangerous repairs to their heaters that needed to be made, and you were the only one there that could actually control the fire or counteract with ice.

Prompto was going to drop it completely, he honestly was, before he overheard you in Noctis’ office the next day.  It wasn’t uncommon for you to stop by and make reports, the King was literally the only one you _officially_ reported to, and even with the Marshall it was good form to make your own reports as well.  By the sounds of the laughter, however, you weren’t doing any work.  It was only after he asked, during a casual conversation between best friends, that Noctis explained you stopped by often just to talk.  You always caught sight of the pile of letters from nobility, the pile of proposals Noctis was trying to avoid dealing with.  With a grin on your face, you would snatch one and read it, standing with your back straight and your hand on your heart as you put on your best, overplayed, imitation of a pompous asshole, only breaking character to give your own color commentary.  Prompto had stopped on his way through the halls of the Citadel to do a little snooping as he peaked through the open office door.

_“To whom it may concern,” you began before immediately breaking character, “Little impersonal for a marriage proposal.  I mean, we all know who it concerns.”_

_“Maybe they don’t want to write out my whole name,” Noctis replied, looking up from work he was no longer paying attention to as he sat back behind his desk, “They always start out ‘To his majesty the king,’ then add my whole name.  Ends up taking up a lot of room on paper.”_

_“Yeah, but ‘to whom it may concern,’?  It’s a marriage proposal, not a letter to a bill collector,” you pointed out before going back into character and continuing to read, “It has come to my attention that a marriage between my daughter, Prudence, and His majesty, the King, would be quite beneficial.”_

_You stopped as you flipped the paper over, peering at the back before flipping it back over and giving the letter itself an incredulous look as you immediately broke character completely, “Who in the hell does this fool think is reading the letter?  It was addressed you, and it sure as hell isn’t gonna be beneficial to you.  I had to deal with this asshole a few times, trust me when I say every woman in his family is 90% plastic and 100% crazy bitch, and the guy’s got three ex-wives.  And I’m sorry, but ‘Queen Prudence?’  This isn’t some pious old country like Accordo, we’re a progressive bunch.”_

_“You see why I hate dealing with those?’ he laughed as you verbally tore the contents of the letter apart, and you had only reached the first sentence after the greeting, “I’d rather be shot, again.”_

_“Yeah, me too, and I’m not even the one this letter is too,” you agreed as you sat down, lazily tossing the letter back onto the king’s mess of a desk and teasing, “On the plus side, though, if you hand these over to a Def Jam comic they’ll have material for the rest of their lives.”_

_“Why would I do that when you’re here?  Isn’t that what I pay you for?” he teased as his smile widened, laughing as you replied that your job was making sure his ass remained on the bedazzled chair downstairs._

Eventually, Ignis would walk in and suspiciously question whether or not there was any work getting done.  All attempts to convince Ignis otherwise would fail, but you would get up and admit you were giving the king a short, but much needed, break before telling Noctis to get back to work.  A few words from you, and the king was diligently looking over rebuilding plans, updates from Hunters and Crownsguard keeping towns and cities safe from the local wildlife as reconstruction and recovery continued, and making sure every had what they needed.

That was just the beginning.

Things were admittedly tense between you and your mother, and awkward between you and the Marshall.  You had taken to avoiding them entirely, resulting you in hiding out at your apartment a _lot_ more often than you used to.  Eventually, that led Noctis to stop by after the work day was over, the two of you taking the chance to just be yourselves, without anything else to bother you or demand anything from you.  Most of the time, it was the best part of his day.  The two of you just talk as you, and _only_ you, cooked dinner.  You’d sit back and watch some old movie or show as you talked, then he would reluctantly return to his own home.  There were even nights Callie joined in, no longer star struck over the King after beating him at King’s Knight with your account.

_“To my defense, my line-up is ten years old.”  He attempted to defend himself as you teased him, having stepped away from chopping onions to watch the game.  He wasn’t nearly as much of a pouty loser as when he was younger, but that didn’t mean he hated losing any less.  You were well aware of that fact, which was why you enjoyed rubbing it in his face and snickering as you got away with it._

_“And against your defense, the servers went down two months after the sun disappeared, she only learned when they went back up two weeks ago, you’re a 30-year-old king with real life battle experience, and she’s an eight-year-old that learned the game two weeks ago,” you teased with a smirk on your face, familiar with just how much Noctis hated losing.  You were **never** going to tell Noctis about that little cheat you found while you were playing with Prompto during a lunch break a few days ago._

_You always forgot that Calli got a kick out of snitching on you, probably how she managed to snitch on you all the damn time.  The second Trysta left after picking up Calli, Noctis looked to you, with his own smirk, and feigned innocence as he asked, “So what’s this about a cheat?”_

_“That little snitch!”_

A month later, and Prompto couldn’t believe the two of you were ‘just friends.’  Not with his knowledge of your personal history with the prince.  The two of you, despite the fact you would only occasionally see each other before King Regis’ attempt at a treaty with Niflheim, always got along like old friends.  Hell, even before the city fell you connected that immediately with each other.  Afterwards…Prompto was kicking himself for not seeing something like this coming sooner.

Taking you and Iris to Cape Caem should have taken a day, two if you left late.  Instead, the two of you tagged along for the better part of a month.  You, while Iris remained at Cape Caem, remained with the guys when Gladio took off for personal business.  Every time you camped, the two of you stayed up too late by the fire, talking quietly about anything.  At the campers, you would stay up playing King’s Knight, though you would text each other to boast your victories to prevent disturbing the others.  At motels, you had enough in your personal funds to get your own room, and the two of you would stay up watching crap TV or movies, whatever was on cable.  Prompto, and Iris when she was with you, would join in, but Prompto was starting to suspect the two of you would have been spending that time together with or without him.  In Lestallum, the two of you would sit at the bar for hours, and return to your rooms sober.  Hell, all of you spent two whole days at Galdin Quay.

Sure, that was Prompto’s idea, but it was _your_ idea to warp to the roof of the resort at night to check out the view.  Nobody even knew where the two of you had taken off to until you got back.  Looking back, as hindsight is always 20/20, it had to be at least a _little_ romantic, even if neither of you actually noticed that.

There was also the little detail of your position.  Everyone who was in the thick of things was still, at least, a little paranoid.  Ignis was always checking on Niflheim, watching the movements of their new government carefully.  Gladio and Cor were always training new Crownsguards, assuming they weren’t triple and quadruple checking the safety of the Citadel.  Prompto was still waiting for the day it would all come crumbling down, like it was nothing but one huge dream, or even a lie.  Despite all of that, the logic and facts all pointed to one thing: the war was over and for the foreseeable future, the Kingsglaive had served its purpose.  It was no longer necessary.  You didn’t have to disappear, you could easily slide over to the Crownsguard or join the Hunters in the local Insomnia area, taking your magic away would be entirely up to you and Noctis.  You wouldn’t, however, report directly to Noctis anymore.

Any and all excuses the two of you used to rationalize seeing each other so often would be gone, and with that came an inherent risk that you wouldn’t see each other as often as you wanted.  That would require forming excuses, a lot of excuses.  There was no guarantee you would make them, and there was no guarantee Noctis _could_.

On the, suddenly, rare occasion Noctis wasn’t absconding to your apartment, Prompto and he found themselves on the roof of the citadel.  It was the first time in a decade that Prompto felt like the old days, or some version of them, really weren’t that far off.  He felt like some part of their tragic youth was still there, permanently part of them no matter what world-ending disaster they had to deal with.  It brought back memories of escaping the motel to sit on the roof, needing a few moments away to just be 21-year-old guys with far too much on their plate and expectations to be something they weren’t sure they were capable of being.

He felt the relief that this newfound peace and joy wasn’t about to be interrupted by war and chaos.

“So, be honest, what’s up with you and [Y/N]?” Prompto asked as a gentle spring breeze whispered by.  The sun had long since set, any need for suits and ties had passed, Prompto had left his uniform coat inside, and Noctis had abandoned his jacket and tie the second he had the chance.

“What do you mean?” Noctis replied, lowering his bottle of beer, stolen from the kitchens, after taking a drink.  It had been a particularly long day, specifically because he had to argue with other members of the nobility about what resources were most needed where, on top of actually answering those proposals.  Some of them took it in stride, knowing the chances were slim, but there were others who poorly hid the fact they were taking it personally.

Even before the Starscourge, nobility and members of the Council never responded well to being told “no.”

“I know you hooked up with her, the girls assumed you told me and Iris spilled the whole story,” Prompto called Noctis out before he made any attempt to lie, “[Y/N] says you’re just friends, but that can’t be it, right?”

“We talked about it.  We agreed not to start anything just because we had sex _once_ ,” Noctis stressed the fact you only spent one night together, as he leaned back against the half wall topped with a sturdy railing that lined the rooftop, “If something happens, it happens, but her life’s a mess, and mine isn’t any better-“

“But it’s _going_ to,” Prompto pointed out, sliding off his perch on the half wall, where he had been leaning back against the railing, as he walked around to face his best friend and try to talk some sense into him, “I don’t know if you noticed, but even ten years ago, you two were…”

Prompto struggled to find the words.  How the hell was he supposed to explain it?  It wasn’t like you two were ‘in love’ a decade ago, but you were closer than _just friends_.  Closer than you should have been.  It was like…like two people, specifically a couple, had been together so long and through so much that they were best friends.  People that just naturally did everything together and told each other everything…there was _something_ there and if Noctis had a chance to be happy…it’s not like it would be the first time a Caelum had married someone outside of the nobility.

According to every history class Prompto ever took, it was a damn family tradition to marry outside the nobility.  So, what in the hell was holding everything up?

“What are you thinking Prompto?” Noctis asked the question calmly, placing his bottle on top of the half-wall and crossing his arms loosely as he leaned back.  Prompto could get anxious, nervous even, but that generally involved his own image of himself, or concerns over what others thought of him.  He rarely second guessed his friends, and when he did, he had every reason in the world to do so, and even then, there were times he would hesitate.

“I think she’s closer to you than me, even Iggy and Gladio have ever been.  I think she means more to you than you realize, cause it’s just _natural_ ,” Prompto explained, his tone almost sentimental as he tried to urge the King to really _think_ about it all, “I mean, the two of you together has _always_ been natural to _all_ of us.  We never thought, for a _second_ , it was strange the two of you would stay up all night, just talking.  We never wondered why you knew how to find her when her own family didn’t, why you could tell her _everything_.  You kept her with us as much as possible without even thinking about it, we never really thought about why she was the one that knew when and how to save you, when _we didn’t._ ”

He had a point, he had a _lot_ of good points, but things were…fragile at the moment.  If he made a wrong move, or timed things wrong…

“It’s complicated.”  Noctis was kicking himself the second he tried to use that excuse, because nobody was going to let him get away with that.

“If you had a one-time offer to do anything, be anything, for one hour, and she asked for help with her laundry, what would you do?” Prompto wasn’t _asking_ , he knew what the answer was, and he knew Noctis knew that answer too.  He just wanted to make a point, the exact opposite point he wanted to make when he asked Cindy that question years ago, as it became clear they were never completely invested in the relationship, for their own reasons.  This wasn’t something Prompto was inexperienced in anymore, and while Gladio didn’t have the time to sit down and have this talk with Noctis the blond photographer certainly did.

“Alright, fine, that part isn’t complicated,” Noctis admitted with a heavy sigh, turning to lean forward against the half-wall and look over the recovering city, “The rest of it’s a damn disaster.”

“What’s the simple explanation?” Prompto stepped forward and leaned back against the half-wall again, draping his arms over the lower rungs of the railing.

“She’s scrambling right now, looking for a new identity, a new place she belongs and adapting to life without a war,” Noctis began before he picked up the almost empty bottle again, taking the last swig before his gaze found its way to the apartment building you lived in, where you were having a ‘girl’s night’ with Iris after a long and stressful day.  “If we get together while she’s dealing with that, she might learn to live her life like being with me is part of her identity, like her life only means something if I’m in it, and I don’t want that.  She deserves better than that, she’s…she’d never be happy living like that.”

“Well, so much for getting everyone help me to set you two up,” Prompto joked lightly, trying to ease the heavy mood, the King scoffing in amusement in response, before the blond continued, “What’s the complicated explanation?”

There was _always_ a complicated explanation when it came to Noctis.  It wasn’t because of who the royal was as a person.  Such things simply happen when you’re the chosen hero king of prophecy.

“You sure?  It involves the Astrals, past lives, and my personal history of getting fucked over at pretty much every turn,” Noctis joked himself, turning to face his friend already knowing the photographer wanted the entire story.

“We’re gonna need more beer.”  Prompto pushed himself back up and made his way back inside, Noctis chuckling as he followed suit.

 

Sleep was a welcome state of being after the long day you had.  You had to stay on full alert, making regular, and constant, patrols as the nobility came through to see the recovery efforts for themselves, and the first Council meeting in ten years.  Then there were the people who wanted to stop you, spotting you in your full uniform as you warped from rooftop to rooftop before making your way to the courtyard to patrol some of the nearby streets, and they would treat you like you were some kind of hero. 

It was a cold and angry thought that crossed your mind as they congratulated you for your great ‘accomplishments’ during the war, and when things escalated, but you couldn’t help but be angry they still had everything as everyone around them lost everything.  You just happened to survive it all, you got stupidly lucky while everyone you fought with died.  Then there were the reports you had to make, questions about the last ten years you had to answer as you stepped into the Council’s chambers at specified times and had to wear a mask as you recalled the fall of Insomnia, how you survived, the attack on Lestallum, and every attack and counter attack you made against the Imperials afterwards. 

Your actions in Accordo were under particular scrutiny, you had gone to Altissia to assist in rescue efforts.  You were already well aware of the fact there were going to be places people couldn’t get to with conventional means, and your means of transportation were hardly conventional.  It was there you were made aware of the fact that people from smaller towns had gone to Altissia, the only place they believed they would be safe from Niflheim.  Despite the fact the country had practically rolled over when faced by the Imperials, or maybe even because of it, citizens were picked up at random and never seen again, and some towns suffered from this more than others.  Now with the knowledge of the Magitech process, the experiments, and even what happened to Ravus Nox Fleuret…you didn’t want to even think about what happened to those people.  All you knew was you had to put a stop to it.

So, you did, without permission or even any assistance outside of locals capable of fighting for themselves or the Hunters who found themselves in Accordo.  The Council wasn’t particularly happy with you over this, it was an unsanctioned attack against Niflheim on soil that was neither Lucian nor Imperial, and you had no Lucian assistance.  That being said, with the state of the entire world in consideration, there were a few retired Crownsguards within the Council who praised you and put your name forward for recognition, medals, titles…

Was it wrong that you wanted nothing to do with that?

You would return to patrol after presenting yourself to the Council, and the cycle continued from seven that morning, to eight that night.  You promised Iris you’d join her for a girl’s night, as an Amicitia in the Crownsguard she had a long enough day herself.  She didn’t have to sit in on all of the meetings, like Gladio, but she did have to take part in a number of them, along with reporting the progress of recruiting and training new healers in Crownsguard.  She had to report on her knowledge of the attack on Insomnia, the attack on Lestallum that followed soon after.  The two of you were in desperate need of a night to just sit back, together, and drink as you talked about your long day, before it all dissolved into giggling nonsense and you fell asleep.

Had you known to expect dreams, you would have put it off.

_Sitting on the roof of your home on the far side of the city was your only escape anymore, and while the lower platform your neighborhood was located on didn’t let you see much of the city it did give you a great view of the sea.  With your days training with the Warrior Monks, specifically their Black Mages, all day every day, you rarely got any peace, even when you went back home._

_“Hey.”_

_You turned to see him, still dressed in the robes of the temple, as he climbed onto the roof and joined you in your peaceful evening, watching the sun set._

_“I thought you were supposed at the temple for the next few weeks,” you stared at the summoner-in-training, shocked he was able to get out without permission.  You always missed him when he was gone, you had known him since you were only five and you were training in magic to follow him on his pilgrimage.  Still, you didn’t want him getting in trouble either, and you knew the men who tended to the temple would throw an absolute fit when they found out._

_They were the most pious in the entire country, though Bevelle was the center of the country and Yevon religion for a reason.  That never stopped either of you from questioning the teachings of Yevon, however, as you couldn’t help but wonder why you would worship the thing that sent Sin to Spira in the first place.  Why would Bevelle, the city that Yu Yevon created Sin to protect his people from, be the center of the religion?_

_None of it made sense, and it was pure bad luck that landed the young man, who already had a series of blasphemous questions as a boy, to be the next summoner.  You knew there were going to be times he would snap and ask questions he was going to get in trouble for.  Running away like this would just make it worse, but he never thought of that.  Being seventeen and longing to be normal again would do that to a boy._

_“I snuck out,” he shrugged as he laid back to watch the sky, only giving you the briefest chance to catch the exhaustion in his deep blue eyes, “It’s miserable in there.  And that song that plays in the main chamber gets stuck in my head.”_

_“It’s a hymn, a holy song, getting it stuck in your head is kind of their goal,” you giggled as you smiled down at your friend before looking back at the sunset and saying, as your smile fell, and giggles subsided, “Yevon has their methods for a reason, even if the religion itself doesn’t make much sense to us.  According to mast summoners, Bahamut won’t bond his soul to just anyone, and for him to be the first Aeon you summon…”_

_“Maybe I don’t want to be a summoner.”  He wasn’t loud or argumentative, as he could be, but calm as he stated a fact and voiced his longing for the days he thought he would simply become a Warrior Monk like his father, “Maybe I just wanna live a normal life.”_

_“I know,” you were quiet, sorrowful, as you pulled your legs in close, hugging them to your body and resting your chin on your knees, “I wish I could give that to you.”_

_He turned his gaze to your hunched back and shrugged shoulders, watching as the breeze off the sea brushed through your hair.  When you were younger, much younger, he had innocently-though honestly-professed-his love and determination to be with you forever.  Seeing as the two of you were only ten at the time, you giggled and called him silly.  Maybe it did seem silly-alright it was absolutely ridiculous-but he meant it.  As he got older, he realized it was probably a good thing you didn’t take him seriously at the time.  In order to complete the Final Summoning, he needed to turn someone he had a strong and unbreakable bond with into an Aeon, sacrificing them, and when that bond was severed the Final Aeon would become the new Sin, and the summoner would die._

_He couldn’t think about that happening to you, he just couldn’t.  He had others he was close to, he would die with them, but if he was going to die fighting Sin in a never-ending cycle of bullshit, he would at least make sure you could live a normal and happy life.  He would say his goodbyes, telling you he loved you in earnest, he would be eighteen by then, and beg you to be happy, beg you to smile so he had one last memory to cling to as he sacrificed himself._

_Unbeknownst to him, you overheard your mothers talking a few months ago, all about that day he showed up with flowers after you broke your arm playing Blitzball with him, at your insistence.  You knew it was an accident, he knew you did, but he still felt terrible about it.  He had to make sure you knew he would never hurt you on purpose, make sure you knew when he saw you with your braided pigtails and that bright blue dress you were fiddling with during the holy gathering at the temple five years ago, you captured his heart immediately.  So, he showed up with flowers, his dad always gave his mom flowers, and told you how much he loved you, then waited for your reply with big blue eyes.  You paused, surprised, before you giggled, told him you loved him and how silly he was being, and hugged him as you said you’d be friends forever._

_You were ten, what else were you supposed to do?_

_Then you found out just how much he meant it, overheard your mothers gossiping about how heartbreaking it was that he still meant it…_

_You didn’t know how you felt, to be honest.  You were still young, at seventeen you could hardly say you knew what it was like to be in love, being so close to a boy made other boys a bit intimidated to approach you, especially considering said boy was the next summoner.  You had seen it, heard girls your age say they loved their boyfriends all the time, but then they would break up and you couldn’t help but think they only thought they were in love.  Still, he was your best friend, he was attractive, he knew everything about you just as you did him, and you couldn’t imagine life without him.  None of that meant you were in love with him.  All you knew was one thing, if he was selfish and decided to run away from his duties and responsibilities, you would go with him, help him, follow him to the ends of the earth and beyond._

_You also knew he was too selfless to let the world suffer, no matter how he felt about the situation._

_So, instead, you were going to follow him around the world, protecting him as best as you could, and then you would die with him._

_Laying back next to him, you stared at the sky as it changed color, relishing in the warmth of his hand shyly inching toward your own, before you took it upon yourself to entangle your fingers together.  Maybe you weren’t in love with him, maybe you were, maybe you were slowly falling in love with him.  Maybe it didn’t even matter, but you did know life just wouldn’t be right without him._

You were woken by the feeling of dampness around your eyes, and something cold patting at your cheek, opening your eyes to feel warm tears slipping free as you stared up into big dark eyes lined by white fur staring down at you.

_Hello again._

All you heard was a little yippy sound, almost a high-pitched purr, but you could hear his words in your head.  What…what was this thing?  It looked like a fox, but you couldn’t think of any breed with ears _that_ big compared to its body, and the red stone in its forehead had to be mystical in nature.  You thought you dreamed it up ten years ago, during your fever dreams as you fought certain death.  It was nothing but a figment of your imagination.

_Sorry, I didn’t know you’d start crying.  It was the happiest memory I could find that might help you remember…I’m sorry your lives have been so sad._

Remember what?  Was he implying you had multiple lives?  You’d never seen that place.  You’d heard of the company Bevelle and seen their advertisements and billboards around the city, but you never heard of a _city_ named that.  You hadn’t even seen that boy before…but his eyes…

_He recognized your eyes too, you know where you’ve seen him before.  You know where to find him, and you can get answers when you’re ready._

“You can hear my thoughts?” you asked, voice rough from sleep as you sat up, plush blankets falling off your form as a deliriously soft bed silently flexed around your movements in the dim blue lighting that surrounded you in an otherwise black room.

_They echo around here, in your mind.  You have to wake up soon, and I don’t think it would be a good idea for your alarm to shock you awake._

What?

You gasped as you shot up in your bed, staring around your apartment and the pale green walls as you tried to ground yourself.  That’s right…you were all dreaming…those blankets were too soft and comfortable, the mattress wasn’t flat, the springs of your bed didn’t creak as you moved, your walls were a pale and faded green you had to learn to live with, and you didn’t have blinds which made it near impossible to get your room that dark.  It was _all_ a dream…

You picked up your phone, you only had a few minutes until you had to get up, might as well start the day a little early, it’s not like you were going to be able to snooze after that dream...not when it felt so real...


	10. Unemployment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You figured it would be coming sooner or later, and all the praise you received from the members of the Council was a pretty blatant sign you were going to be out of a job. The million dollar question was just what you were going to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader has a PlayStation because I have one. I have multiple consoles, and games on my PC, but my main console has always been PlayStation. I also hate spiders, I saw a spider at the bottom of the staircase and just threw things down there until I knew it was dead. So, reader hates spiders.
> 
> I also feel it’s time to explain Rea’s family of engineers by the fact my mom was a legit engineer, government contracts and all, and my dad has a PhD in microbiology, research contracts and a specialty in virology that landed him a job developing flu shots and overlooking the production line involved. So, naturally, my gifts are in literature, writing, and I’m going to school for law, my first degree being in Criminal Justice. So, I’m very familiar with the family dynamic where you’re doing something wildly different, but my mom was always worried when I listed off the jobs I could do with my first degree. Then I had that class trip to a criminal trial and just knew that’s where I want to be.
> 
> P.S. I’M BACK BITCHES!! There has been a boom in popularity that I wasn’t expecting, almost 50 subscribers, 36 bookmarks, and over 100 kudos? Holy shit guys! I love when people love what I write, because it’s no fun when you keep it to yourself. Seriously, I used to keep everything to myself and I’m so glad I came to AO3 and awesome people like you have made writing so much more fun than it used to be. 
> 
> It was always fun, don’t get me wrong, but awesome supportive readers like you, even my ghost readers, are awesome and you need to know that.

# Strings of Fate

### Unemployment

After the hell that was over twelve hours of dealing with the rest of Lucian nobility, after making sure they had all left his city, Noctis decided propriety could go fuck itself.    Pants, random shirt from his closet, shoes, and that jacket and tie could go fuck themselves too.  It was fucking Saturday, he was exhausted, yesterday was hell, and today wasn’t going to be much better.  There was good news to give, but there was a fair about of bad news.  He managed to mitigate it, but there was a system of checks and balances to make sure the King didn’t become…well…like the last Emperor of Niflheim.  Noctis could make deals and arguments with experience and knowledge the old stiffs didn’t have, but there was only so much he could do when two thirds, or more, of the Council was against him.

It didn’t help that everyone involved had been miserable all damn day, either.  All of you had been kicked around yesterday, you were all exhausted, you were trying to recover, and he was about to dump a lot more crap on all of you.  He could try to start off with the good news but, if his life had taught him one thing, putting a cherry on a pile of crap doesn’t magically turn it into a sundae. 

Members of the Crownsguard were going to be dispatched to multiple different areas, as requested by the nobility, and the only consolation prize was Noctis managed to slip in the places that _actually_ needed help.  Certain supplies were being deviated to other locations, but Noctis managed to get it sent to other places that needed supplies instead of the original locations requested and brought in different supplies that would help make up for the losses.  Ambassadors were going to be sent to Niflheim, Tenebrae, and Accordo as soon as possible, but he was intending on pushing that off seeing as all of Eos was focused on rebuilding their own land first, Lucis included.

Then there was the matter of filling that empty seat on the Council.  With the old man’s role revolving around gathering, reporting, and organizing intelligence coming into the Citadel it wasn’t exactly a surprise he was targeted during the attack on Insomnia.  With the recent changes, there was a shift being made from wartime politics to softer diplomacy, and that required someone who knew what they were doing to step in and not only reorganize, but recruit new agents, train them, and hold their own in Council meetings.  He had until the meeting next month to find a suitable replacement to nominate, though the majority of the Council had already promised to support his choice, before the Council would give the job to some rich old man with no idea what he was doing.

Then there was the more private matter brought up by the fact he made it clear the proposals needed to stop.  If he was just two years younger, he doubted any of them would be so concerned about a queen and heirs.

Ignis was already in the small meeting room, as expected, and the Marshall arrived only a few minutes later.  Everyone else began filing in, yawning and out of uniform as they clutched coffee or energy drinks.  Literally everybody was exhausted, the second Prompto sat down he started snoozing loud enough for Gladio to jab the blond in the side.  Prompto got his own revenge, as Gladio interrupted the middle of the meeting with a loud yawn.

You were lounging with your feet up on another chair, your long blue skirt draped over your legs, your white t-shirt fit your form and rode up a little every time you started to sulk in your seat.  You had lazily thrown your hair into a ponytail, and you hadn’t even bothered with any makeup as you were just _too fucking tired._   Hell, Iris showed up in sweats and a t-shirt before collapsing next to you and leaned her head on your shoulder.

“Yesterday was hell, and we have to do it once a month,” Noctis opened the, frankly casual, meeting with the elephant in the room, waiting for the groans and curses to pass before he continued, “It won’t be like yesterday, and…it still sucks.”

Ignis shot Noctis a look, the advisor clearly not approving of the King’s final comment, before Gladio stepped in to defend the king, “Name one person that didn’t go home and drink yesterday.”

The resulting silence lasted only a minute, but it was enough of an answer to prove the point.  Yesterday sucked, and every other Council meeting was bound to suck for a very, very long time.

“That can’t be all the bad news,” you spoke up, nudging Iris to make sure she was still awake, “With how nice they were to us, we’re _definitely_ getting screwed.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Noctis openly admitted, lowering his coffee mug after taking a drink, “We’re going to be dispatching the Crownsguard to locations hit worst by fiends and the Starscourge, and I managed to get a field office in Lestallum, but there’s a long list the Council wants us to cover as well.”

“Give me the list and I’ll get to work on dispatching them,” the Marshall spoke up, keeping a professional face despite being just as miserable as the rest of you.  The meeting continued much like that, with Noctis giving out bad news and those with the authority to pick up jobs would do so, trying to make things easier on the King already buried in rebuilding a country.  Other times, he was stuck dealing with the bad news himself, and all he could do was give the rest of you a heads up.  That was all he could do with the news of the empty seat on the Council, the few people that could actually help him were only capable of giving him suggestions.  Still, he felt the rest of you deserved a heads up, as it would directly affect the rest of you.  The Crownsguard would be acting on the information gathered, and you…well…

He was going to have to speak with you in private, pulling you aside as everyone departed.  You were more awake than you had been, but everyone was still just as miserable.  Iris was busy with speaking with Cor about increasing efforts to train Crownsguard field medics, the recent changes meaning there would need to be at least two in each location.  It would be easiest for you to slip away and deal with the inevitable news without her shooting looks and gesturing that you needed to _talk_ with the king.

She still had no idea just what Ignis needed to talk to you about when he tracked you down, you weren’t about to tell _anyone_ about that list of questions until you knew just what to do with them – or what they even meant.  You decided to push back dealing with that mess, you already had enough problems that were a bit more immediate.

“I’m out of a job, aren’t I?” you asked, bluntly, as Noctis shut the door to his office behind the two of you.  He froze briefly, caught off guard, before he led you to the two black leather couches – you expected just one of them was more expensive than _any_ place you had lived – and sat next to you, turned to face you.

“Yeah, the Glaives are disbanded, officially.  I managed to talk them into letting you keep your magic, if you want, but that would mean you join the Crownsguard,” Noctis was careful as he gave the news, well aware of the fact you still had yet to actually discuss your unexpected familial ties, “We’re planning on focusing more on covert operations, but the Council member in charge of gathering intelligence was killed and we won’t have a replacement for another month.  Then we’d have to wait and see just how they plan on setting up the department.”

You nodded, neither option was ideal.  You could give up your abilities and do whatever you wanted, but part of you just wanted to keep working in the public sector.  The real problem was, with your abilities – with or without magic – that narrowed down just what you could do.  This wasn’t exactly something you could decide in an instant.

“How long do I have to make the decision?” you asked, knowing Noctis would at least try to give you some time.

“Until the next meeting, if there’s anything I can do…” he stopped with a long sigh, knowing you were going to thank him for the offer but decline, “I wish there were easy answers for you.”

“My life has been nothing but hard questions since I moved here, can’t say I’m surprised the trend has continued,” you honestly admitted, elbow leaning on the back of the couch as you played with your ponytail, body facing Noctis but eyes staring off into the distance to the side, “The _kind_ of questions I’ve been dealing with are different, though…”

“I’m only going to say this once, but you’re going to need to talk to Cor eventually.”  He knew you had likely heard that from your sister, maybe even Iris, but you had spent most of your life ignoring their advice.  He _hoped_ you would at least consider it when he said something.

“I know, I just don’t know _how_ ,” you sighed, admitting this wasn’t exactly easy, but the company helped.  You knew you were going to talk to _both_ of your parents eventually and figure out just what the _hell_ happened.  You just didn’t know where to start, you didn’t like stepping into that kind of discussion without _any_ information, or even a plan of attack.

“You haven’t even talked to your mom yet, have you?” Noctis’s deadpan tone was enough proof that he already knew you hadn’t, the question was more rhetoric, but required an honest answer.

“No, I’ve seen her though.  We’ve been helping Trysta with moving, but most of our conversations have consisted on betting on whether the baby is a boy or a girl and figuring out what to do with the extra pieces left over after we put together the baby’s dresser.”

“ _What_?” Noctis couldn’t help but laugh.  He had a similarly strained relationship with his father, but he was able to have those moments of normalcy, bonding even, and he still couldn’t help but laugh at some of the memories.  Though, unlike your bonding moments that involved failed attempts at putting furniture together and surprise trips to that rock concert both of you were _dying_ to go to, his mostly involved training in magic and smartass comments once the other nobility left the room, even giving Noctis the freedom to live a normal life for as long as possible.

“We told Trysta, and she made a sign for it, so people won’t put the baby on the dresser,” you defended, smiling as you giggled a little at the memory yourself, it _was_ funny, “To mom’s defense her specialty _is_ weapons, not _furniture_.”

“So, what’s stopping you from talking to them?”  He had already prepared to do the bare minimum that day, the entire country had to hit the breaks and adapt to the changes made in the Council meeting.  There wasn’t much he _could_ do until the rest of the country caught up, unless an emergency hit.  Spending that time with you was at the top of things he’d like to be doing, though he did miss the days he could spend sleeping and playing video games.

Hell, you did too.  That was why you called in a favor and got one of the few remaining PlayStation consoles that _worked_.  It took some fiddling, and some wheeling and dealing, but you managed to get some of the old games you loved too, some of which were multiplayer.  You had to hide the whole setup from Callie, the games you managed to get weren’t exactly kid friendly, but it was _so_ worth it.

“I dunno, I guess if I was mad it would be easier, but it’s been so long since I actually _cared_.  I mean I _do_ care now, but it’s not like when I was a kid, or even a teenager,” you explained the awkward situation you found yourself in as you tucked your feet to your side and slid your arm off the back of the couch to lean against the high back, “Now it’s just more to make sure I don’t end up hooking up with someone I’m related to, but everyone keeps _expecting_ me to be angry, or to want Cor to step in and act like my dad…”

“You should know he’s been doing that for a while, what he _could_ do anyway.”  He got up and grabbed a file off his mess of a desk, bringing it back to the couch and handing it to you as he sat down, “You should see this.”

You took his word, you always trusted Noctis, and opened the file to see Cor’s personal reports regarding your performance.  You had known him for years before you even moved to Insomnia, your mother’s expertise with weaponry had been sought out by multiple members of the Crownsguard.  They had all been stopping by for years, thinking there was nothing complicated about a blade until your mom came along and changed their perspective.  After you made your way to Cape Caem, when you weren’t off gathering intelligence for the war effort, your mom and sister located themselves in Hammerhead.  Hell, getting the car to fly had Cindy stumped until Trysta brought in whatever crazy idea she researched in graduate school, and your mom had a field day working with Cid.  They had worked together before, when you stopped at Hammerhead to help the guys with a _massive_ hunt Cid couldn’t help but tell you about how he discovered your mother’s _frightening_ creativity when it came to weapons.

You looked over the reports, the paperwork…

The recommendation that landed you in the Glaives in the first place was lying on top.  That one piece of paper gave you the people and life you needed to grow into the woman you had become.  Without the Glaives, you would have gone out and caused all kinds of trouble until you landed yourself in prison, you were at the beginning of a long road to a life of daddy issues and drug charges by the time you hit puberty at twelve.  You were running around with a bad crowd, an even when your family arrived in Insomnia it looked like it was only a matter of time until that tendency returned.  Your mother was never around, always working to pay the bills, and your sister couldn’t be expected to discipline you as she was a child herself.  Then she had to drag you to work after she had to pick you up from middle school because your smart mouth got you in trouble with multiple teachers and the principal _yet again._ She was talking with Cor and Captain Drautos, planning her long week of weapons repairs and redesigns, when the three of them caught you playing with the stones kept on the grounds to teach the Glaives Elemancy.  You didn’t have magic, but you clearly had the proclivity for it.

Without the Glaives, without the order and discipline they forced on you, you didn’t want to know where you would have ended up.  It was a dangerous job, but it made you a better person, made you finish high school, made you someone even the royal family could count on.  The Captain openly said he was going to wait until you were 18 until that recommendation crossed his desk, and he expected the best of you, so you better damn well show it.  It seemed cruel to those on the outside, barking orders at a minor that she _better damn well finish that final lap in time without warping_ , and _you better not be lying about your homework or your ass is out of here_ , but you needed that.  There was a series of arguments, plenty of times you snapped at the Captain that he wasn’t your dad, but he wasn’t about to stand for it, and you weren’t about to let the old bastard win.  Three years later and you were no longer a problem child, you were one of his go-to for difficult situations.

There were glowing reports of your performance when you worked with Crownsguard before the attack, pleas to give you extra time to heal, official requests to upgrade your bow – which was not standard issued gear for Glaives – as well as the official request that gave you your bow in the first place.  Things you needed, even if they weren’t traditional or even things you necessarily wanted, they were things you needed.  You sure as hell didn’t want that extra month on the bench to recuperate when you were sixteen, but you needed it.  You knew he reported to the Council regarding your actions between the attack on Insomnia and the Starscourge, but all of this was unexpected.

“Goddammit,” you sighed yet again, shutting the file and tossing it onto the glossy coffee table between the couches, shutting your eyes as you rubbed at your forehead.  You needed to talk to Cor, even if it was just to let him know you weren’t mad.  By now he was most likely in his office, as barren as it was, and working on the issues the Council just dropped onto the Crownsguard.  Without another word, after taking a deep breath in and out, you got up and grabbed the file you just tossed onto the coffee table.

“I’ll see you later, I gotta go talk to the Marshall about… _everything_.”  You stepped around the couch and made your way for the door, the king watching from his seat with his mission accomplished.  As you opened the door, Noctis’s smug smirk fell because he spotted Ignis on the other side.  You gave the advisor a quick hi before taking off for the lower floors, Ignis responding in kind as he made his way into the office, shutting the door behind him.

“I take it you have yet to speak with her about anything personal,” Ignis assumed as he made his way around to sit on the couch across from his friend, “I’d be amazed at how long you’ve procrastinated this if her personal life hadn’t taken multiple wild turns.”

“You know, between firing her and letting her know her best option is working with the guy she _just_ found out is her father, it just didn’t seem to come up,” Noctis retorted, turning to face the other man, one arm draped over the back of the couch.

“That might not be her best option, at eighteen she managed to gather the majority of intelligence both we and the Marshall used,” Ignis was brining this up for a reason.  The intelligence you managed to gather when you were in Altissia, at eighteen, in a matter of _days_ was far beyond anything Lucian intelligence managed on their own.  True, at the time the country was at war which led the majority of intelligence to come from the Glaives in the first place, but to get enough to uncover the series of underground laboratories, even organize locals and Hunters to help uncover and end the problem.  You managed to gather intelligence on Ardyn’s movements during the Starscourge without getting caught, you knew how to act on it, you knew how to act on the intelligence you gathered during the war.  Putting you in charge of all intelligence, with you behind the training of the new agents and reconfiguring the new networks, would lead to that same skill spreading along the entire network.

Noctis caught on quickly, “Ignoring the fact we don’t even know she’d agree to it, you actually think those old pricks would be able to deal with that?”

It wasn’t your gender.  Hell, there was a married couple on the Council, and yesterday the wife made it _very_ clear just who was in charge.  The issue was as stupid as your class, soldier or not you had never been near reaching the upper classes, let alone _nobility_.  Historically, any king that tried nominating a normal person, no matter their qualifications, for a seat on the Council failed _miserably_.  Noctis had already rocked the boat enough by making it clear all the proposals had to stop and arguing over where the Crownsguard and supplies traveling the country were most needed.  He was able to keep a majority on his side, but he had also made a few enemies _in the first meeting._

“Whether the Council is willing to accept it or not, we all know the country is undergoing a massive change.  Insomnia no longer needs walls or a barrier, with the infrastructure of both Tenebrae and Niflheim completely changed, and with Altissia finally in a place where they can recover from their capitol being destroyed, we will have to take over as the leader of Eos,” Ignis pointed out, bringing voice to the global changes everyone knew had taken place.  Until recently, the king and his inner circle were the only members of the Council who physically couldn’t care less of the petty power games played by the nobility.  With the recent changes, these games just _could not_ continue, a time would come when Noctis wouldn’t stand for them any longer.

The argument was good enough, Noctis was well aware your particular skills would be exactly what they needed.  Still, even ignoring the fact he would have to sell you to the Council, there was a bigger problem.

“That’s great and all, but the only thing [Y/N] hates more than spiders is dealing with the Council.”

Ignis didn’t have an answer for that, they had all seen you throw a fireball at what you _thought_ was a spider.  If you thought dealing with the Council was worse…

Maybe they should start considering a backup…

 

You knocked on the open door before stepping inside, Cor seemed to be deeply focused on whatever he was working on.  He looked up as you sat in one of the chairs across from him, dropping the file onto his desk as you sat down.

“You know, for an absentee dad you’ve done a lot of shit for me.”  You nodded towards the file as you sat back, not sure how else to approach the subject outside of cracking a joke, “Look, I’m not mad, I’ve never been mad.  I mean now I’m grateful, you put your ass on the line for me when I didn’t deserve them.”

“You did, you had a lot of issues and my absence was part of that,” he stayed calm as he made the admission, countering your unsure approach after you started blurting things out all at once, “The risk was worth it, and I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, well…”  You didn’t know where you were going with that thought.  You had _nothing_.  You had _absolutely_ nothing.  Nobody had said those words to you.  They were safe to assume, but nobody actually _spoke_ those words.  That was partially because you were proud of where you ended up, you were proud of who and what you had become despite it all, so everyone’s natural reaction was you didn’t need to hear it said.  Just what the hell were you supposed to do when someone said that to you?

“Do you know what you’re going to do now?”  He knew the Kingsglaive was disbanded, of course he knew.  With the end of the war, with you being the _only one_ that reported to Insomnia after the Starscourge ended, it was inevitable.

“Not really.  I mean I know what my options are, but I can’t say I’m sold on any of them yet.  Civilian life is _clearly_ not for me, but I kind of like the idea of staying in one place, not having to keep packing up and leaving home for weeks or months at a time,” you sat back, crossing your legs as you thought out loud and readjusted your skirt over your knees to busy your hands, “Just thinking it might be nice to sleep in my own bed on a regular basis, but my only chance for that is civilian life.”

“That is a tough call, if there’s anything I can do-“

“I know, I just gotta try to figure out if the freedom to have a pet and buy an actual bed is worth giving up my all access pass to the Citadel.”  You stood up, planning on making your way home and trying to sort everything out.

“You’re not going to ask why we never told you?  Because-“

“I’m 28, maybe ten years ago I would have demanded answers but I’m not a kid.  I get it, sometimes it’s just easier to keep the secret.  We lived pretty far away, and when we moved here you got mom a job.”  You stopped in the doorway, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway as you faced the Marshall, “Letting it out that I was your kid carried a risk, a minor risk King Regis probably would have ignored, but there was a risk you didn’t want to take.  I get it.”

“You always were too smart for your own good,” Cor accused, turning back to whatever he had been working on before you interrupted, shaking his head when he heard your response as you left.

“It’s genetic!”

You assumed he was trying to figure out how to deal with the recent demands made by the Council.  That was, at least, what he was _supposed_ to be doing before you arrived.  He had actually been working on a lengthy recommendation for the empty seat on the Council, the person that would be put in charge of reorganizing the network of Lucian intelligence, and running it afterwards.  The email he was sending included lengthy recollections of past missions, accomplishments, and character evaluations.

He deleted it all, reducing everything to one quick line, the subject line simply left with ‘Council Seat.’

_You know [Y/N] is the best choice._


	11. Cats, Bags, and Family Dinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trysta and Gladio were finally finished moving, and someone thought it would be a good idea for everyone to gather together in a family dinner. You couldn't remember who, maybe it was a group idea, but you knew shoving so many personalities under one roof was going to bite someone in the ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Everyone in one place as one big family! I love scenes like this, and the bromance the guys have is more like family than anything. I’ve been dying to write this scene just because it’s fun to write family bonding like this, when it’s mostly a group of friends coming together to form a family. Most of the people that are my closest family aren’t actually related to me, so I’m a sucker for friends that form a family together.

# Strings of Fate

### Cats, Bags, and Family Dinners

It was a nice suburban house, large enough to give everyone their own room while maintaining a ‘homey’ feel.  The Amicitia manor’s reconstruction had been pushed back, it was Gladio’s suggestion as it was not a necessary reconstruction and both he and Iris were comfortable in their own apartments.  It was likely to be a few years before reconstruction was finished. 

It was hard to call the small gathering a ‘house-warming’ party, everybody had helped the slow move over the last week and few days.  Between the first Council meeting in ten years, continued reconstruction efforts, the change in supply chains, and members of the Crownsguard leaving to establish a new forward base in Lestallum or making their way to their new posts things had been busy.  You weren’t _officially_ reporting to the Citadel anymore, but you needed a way to pass the time until you could actually figure out what you wanted to do, and they weren’t about to turn down free help when they were suddenly short on people.  You had all been busy, and finally everyone was able to gather together for something _other_ than work.

“You sure living on the same block as mom is a good idea?” you couldn’t help but ask as you sat at the kitchen table with Trysta.  You were helping with a few things, but Ignis insisted on taking over making dinner so you were basically waiting until the advisor gave you a chore to do.  You were used to sitting back and waiting to help until Ignis told you to, but Trysta it was entirely new to Trysta.  It was something she was going to have to get used to, and fast.  Everyone taking Callie in was one thing, but soon she was going to find out she and Gladio weren’t the _only_ ones having that baby. 

She’d be lucky if she was the second person to hold the kid.

“Just because the two of you only get along when there’s distance doesn’t mean I have the same relationship,” Trysta retorted as she neatly chopped vegetables on the other side of the table, carefully taking the chopped onions and tossing them in the pot, as Ignis had previously instructed, “If you’re not going to help, _shoo_.”

“Alright, alright,” you got up and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before leaving, “But don’t call me in a few weeks when you figure out I’m right.”

“ _How do I keep losing?”_ Prompto cried from the living room, immediately causing you to turn away from the kitchen and follow the sound of two grown men and an eight-year-old girl laughing at a very distressed Prompto.  You expected to catch her cheating at King’s Knight, only to see Gladio, Prompto, Callie, and your mom gathered around a game of Mouse Trap, with the yellow game piece caught in the trap at the end of the board.  Iris was watching, still banned from games after her competitive tendencies resulted in a bottle just _slipping_ from her grasp during a game of Pictionary, the uncapped and half-full plastic container flying across the room and spilling cola along the way.

“A weapons expert, the King’s Shield, and the King’s best friend are playing Mouse Trap with a kid, only one of them is losing,” you summarized as you walked over, overlooking the board, “Sounds like the beginning of a riddle with a really obvious answer.”

“Har har.”  Prompto was clearly not amused as he had to take the Mouse Trap apart yet again, it was the only board game with all the pieces – the Monopoly set only had a pile of 50’s and five 100’s – and Trysta wasn’t about to let them teach Callie how to play poker.

While Prompto was struggling to take the mouse trap apart, your mom having to jump in and help as he struggled with a bit stuck in the board, Gladio turned to you and asked, “You take the job offer?”

“What job offer?”  As far as you knew your options were Crownsguard or wait around to see what the next Council spymaster did, unless you bit the bullet and lived a completely civilian life, but you wouldn’t consider those job _offers._   If there was an actual offer you didn’t know about you needed to find out about it pronto.

“Did Noct not talk to you about that?” Prompto stopped, looking up at you with the other three, the five of you stuck in a silent staring match until Callie broke the silence.

“ _Uh oh_ , someone said something he wasn’t _supposed to_.”  Callie taunted Gladio, the Shield teasingly mussing her hair, causing her to duck away and pout for a brief second, before Gladio called her a clever little troublemaker.  Then she beamed up at him with a big grin, proud of her title, the Shield laughing himself.  It was an endearing sight, even if things never progressed between Trysta and Gladio, at least Callie and the baby would always have a set of good parents – that was nothing to speak of the other adults that were going to be hovering over the two of them until the end of time.

As endearing and heartwarming as it was, you had other issues to worry about.

“Just how the hell does everyone know about my life before I even find out?  I used to have everything locked down tight, nobody even knew I was in the room until I wanted them to,” You angrily voiced your frustrations as you angrily twisted the cap on your bottle of water and broke the factory seal, “Nobody even knew I was targeting an Imperial base until it was in flames, ten years later and it’s like everybody is telling me what happened in a show I haven’t seen yet.”

“Maybe you should talk to him when-“ Gladio was cut off by the back door opening and closing, Noctis stepping back inside as he pocketed his phone after ending a last-minute call, muttering to himself about changing his number.  Now that there had been at least one meeting, and there was a list of things to bother him with, some of the more irritating members of the Council found it appropriate to call him directly instead of starting with whoever they _actually_ needed to talk to.  The most he could do this time was pass the message along to Cor, who would then pass the message to the budding outpost in Lestallum.  Did he really need to write a law that nobody could call him on his personal phone unless it was an _actual_ emergency?  Because he was about to.

“So, what’s this job offer?”  You blindsided him, true, but to be fair you had been blindsided too.  The second you voiced your question Noctis froze in the middle of running a tired hand through his hair, eyes wide in shock, for a brief second before brushing his hair back and shooting a quick glare at the guys in the living room.

“[Y/N], let’s step outside and talk about this, apparently some people have trouble keeping their mouth shut.”  Noctis stepped back to open the door to the back yard yet again, holding it open for you to walk through before shutting the door behind the two of you.

“You said he talked to her,” Gladio snapped at Prompto the second the door closed, placing the blame on the blonde for incorrect information.

“They talk every day, how much can they talk about without bringing up work stuff?” Prompto defended himself, the new ruckus causing Ignis and Trysta to step away from the kitchen out of concern just as Promptly impulsively added, “They keep saying hooking up was a one-time thing, and I know-“

“ _Prompto!”_ Iris snapped seconds too late, cutting off the blonde and bringing his attention to her as the secret he just spilled took a few seconds to finally click as everyone stared at him.  Well, not everyone, Callie wasn’t entirely sure what ‘hooking up’ referred to, but the grown-ups seemed to be taking it seriously.

“What?  I’m just saying there’s only so many…things…” Prompto trailed off when he turned to see everyone staring at him, eyes growing wide in panic when he saw Ignis and Trysta had overheard as well, “ _Oh…”_

“Callie, go to your room, we’re going to have a grown-up talk,” Trysta was gentle with the order, but Callie didn’t even argue as she slipped off the couch and made her way upstairs and to her new room.  She already figured this was going to happen when everyone went quiet, and her mom was one person she didn’t even _try_ arguing with.

“Start talking,” Trysta ordered as she made her way over to the couch, taking Callie’s seat and staring down Prompto with stern brown eyes.  Prompto was still frozen, causing Iris to jump in and save his ass.

“It really was just the one time, and it was a while ago, right after [Y/N] took off for a few days,” she started, before explaining what she could.  She didn’t have all the information, and Prompto wasn’t about to spill the beans about Noctis’s feelings for you, Ignis sure as hell wasn’t going to mention the past-life complication, but there was still some explaining to do.

 

“Who spilled?” Noctis asked before the two of you started talking about the job, sitting next to you on the porch swing overlooking the yard and the fire pit left in disrepair.  Gladio insisted he was going to fix it up, put some more furniture around the firepit so they could have nights gathered around a fire.  For now, though, there was nothing between the two of you and watching the early spring sun slowly setting over the fence lining the large yard, and the trees just beyond that.

“Gladio, but it seemed like he and Prompto thought you already told me,” you were willing to defend the two, for the moment.  You pulled the sleeves of your black sweatshirt down before tugging the zipper up to cover most of the olive-green tank-top you wore underneath.  At least your jeans and old black boots kept away the chill of the early spring evening.  You had been slowly rocking the swing by yourself before Noctis joined you, sitting back with his arms lazily draped along the back of the porch swing, then it became an unconscious team effort to keep the swing slowly rocking back and forth.

“Fair enough, I guess I was kind of hoping you’d make a final decision before I brought it up, it involves dealing with some unpleasant people,” he explained briefly before elaborating, “It’s a seat on the Council, the last spymaster was killed in the attack and there was nobody to take over.  With your skills and history of digging up all kinds of information, I’ve already had Ignis and Cor suggest you for the position.”

You nodded, remaining pensively quiet before asking, “What would the job require?”

“Well, you’d have to completely reorganize our intelligence network, recruit and train more agents, report and act on whatever you find, and go to Council meetings,” Noctis summed up the job, but even just that summary gave an idea of how complicated the job could get and finishing with a sarcastic, “Then you’ll have to go to all the fun fancy gatherings we have.”

“So, my wardrobe would consist of old band t-shirts, business suits, and ballgowns with daggers and a bow tucked in the back,” you joked, carrying a serious façade for about five seconds before you giggled and Noctis began chuckling beside you.

“That’s one way to sum it up.”  The two of you were still watching the setting sun, your gaze never crossing paths.  It was probably for the best, if your attention had been on the king, with the sleeves of his gray button-up rolled up to his elbows and the top few buttons undone, you would be sorely tempted to take advantage of this solitude.  As if his eyes weren’t enough.

You had been doing well recently, but after finding yourself unemployed you had more time to think about that dream, the boy in the strange city you didn’t know, those deep blue eyes that exactly matched the king’s eyes.  It was getting harder and harder not to think about that dream, you couldn’t help the gut feeling that it meant something, but your conscious mind kept reasoning that was ridiculous.  Dreams were just that, _dreams_.  They never meant anything.

At this moment, though, your thoughts were distracted by this change of fate.  You couldn’t say you were thrilled with the prospect of dealing with the other members of the Council regularly, but there were a few you liked, or at least didn’t hate.  It was something you could do, it was something that would let you go home for most of the year, it certainly wasn’t a civilian job…

“If you need time to think about it-“

“I actually kind of…don’t…I mean I wanna’ do this.  It feels like the right thing to do,” you answered simply, accepting the offer as the two of you turned and your gazes briefly met.  You sat there, staring at each other for a few moments, Noctis felt his heart leap to his throat as the light breeze brushed through your hair and the twilight sparkled in your eyes.  Your heart thudded against the back of your ribcage before slamming against your chest, the two of you turning back to watch the sunset as you slowly rocked the porch swing.

“Alright, I’ll let everyone know and get things started to make it official.”  He made no effort to move, planning on started everything the next morning.

“Don’t they have to vote me in?”

“I’ve got a few favors I can call in, if I talk with the guys that were Crownsguard I could probably reason with them,” Noctis reasoned out loud, before coming to the realization, “I might actually be the first king to get someone outside the nobility a seat on the Council.”

“Well, you did punch an Astral in the face, doing the impossible has kind of become your _thing_ ,” you teased, talking like it was a completely _normal_ and _logical_ thing with nothing odd about it.  There was a short silence, before the two of you started snickering again.

“You know, if we climb up to the roof this’ll be exactly like the last time we were alone like this,” Noctis pointed out through snickers, memories of sitting on the roof of the Galdin Quay resort after escaping the others for a few moments of peace.  The idea had been entirely yours, but Noctis was immediately on board once you mentioned the chance to relax and safely watch the night sky without the bright lights of the resort getting in the way.

“Well, not exactly.  It took them hours to track us down at Galdin Quay, it’ll take them _minutes_ to track us down here,” you giggled, remembering the night fondly yourself.  It was probably the first time in a disturbing amount of time the two of you were able to just open up and talk to someone.  It set the tone for your relationship with the royal; comfortable, open, safe.  It was because what you talked about that night he knew where to find you as your life came crashing down around you, and you stuck around with the guys much longer than you needed to.  He was open and close with his friends, he could depend on them at all times, but you were the one that pulled him away from everything and gave him an escape for just a few moments.  You needed that escape yourself, and you knew the hell he was putting up with was far worse than anything you were dealing with.  Giving the young man with the weight of the world _thrown_ onto him by surprise brief moments of escape and relief was the least you could do.

“Yeah, there aren’t that many places to hide here.”  Something crossed Noctis’s mind, causing him to look at the door leading back inside, the decorative curtain inside the glass door blocking any clear view of inside, “It’s freakishly quiet in there.”

“A little bit, yeah,” you agreed, turning to look towards the door, surprised you didn’t at least see Iris and Prompto spying on the two of you.  You were growing concerned with the silence, getting up and making your way to the door, Noctis following you as you stepped back inside.  The second you stepped back into the living room, all eyes were turned to the two of you and Callie was nowhere to be seen.

This _couldn’t_ be good.

“How’s dinner going?”  You broke the awkward silence, only for your question to be left completely unanswered.

“You slept together?”  Trysta’s tone was far more accusatory than questioning, hands on her hips as she gave you her trademarked ‘angry mom’ look.  She wasn’t the only one about to scold the two of you, Ignis clearly had some words to say, but everyone else was just staring blankly.

“Well, this is gonna’ be a fun family dinner,” you muttered loud enough for Noctis to hear, waiting for the barrage of questions, angry rants, or whatever else was about to follow.  With everything going on, you couldn’t help but wish you were in Lestallum, helping Cor set up the Crownsguard’s forward base, the lucky bastard.

 

There were no questions, no rants, just awkward silence as everyone gathered around the dinner table.  Callie couldn’t help but look around the table, noticing you and Noctis seemed to be keeping your heads down at the silent table.  Your niece, ever the subtle girl, leaned over and asked, “What did you do?”

“Grown up stuff, munchkin,” you answered softly, scooping some vegetables onto Callie’s plate, much to her displeasure.  Trysta hoped Callie would outgrow her hatred of vegetables, but the mother never understood how you were able to get Callie to actually eat them.  You joked about covering them in cheese, but it had nothing to do with that.  It had everything to do with the sell, and for Callie it was enough to grab one small carrot off her plate and eat it yourself.  She didn’t want to miss out, and she trusted your judgement, so the vegetables ended up becoming the first thing she cleaned off her plate.  Trysta tried that same technique, so did your mom, and it never worked. So, as Callie started digging into her veggies, Trysta glared over her daughter’s head at you.

“I’m just that awesome,” you shrugged it off before taking a bite of your own food, smirking as Trysta groaned and rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry, are we not talking about that _thing_ we just found out about?” your mom spoke up, “Because I was expecting a completely different dinner.”

“Unless you can come up with a talk that doesn’t involve you and I calling her out for doing things we’ve already done ourselves, we’ve got nothing,” Trysta retorted quickly, willing to admit that not only were you an adult, but she was in no place to lecture.  The two of you would have a calmer, _private_ , conversation later, but now was not the time, and a big family dinner was not the place.  She also wanted a chance to gather her thoughts.  Even when dealing with Callie, after her experience with you, Trysta had learned that talking calmly with collected thoughts was far more effective than angry snapping.  It wasn’t _easy_ , sometimes she had to step away and scream into a pillow when she was dealing with Callie, and _you_ were the reason she already knew how to deal with Callie when the surprise addition to the family was being particularly difficult.

No child would _ever_ be as difficult as you were, at least before Glaive training knocked you off the track to becoming a regular with local law enforcement for the _wrong_ reasons.

“So, let me get this straight,” you cautiously eyed your sister and mother before asking, “I’m off the hook?  Just like that?”

“We’re still talking about this, because I have some questions,” Trysta replied honestly, still a little terse as she placed some food on her plate, “But we’ll talk about that later.”

You lucked out, coming from a family of women whose lives tend to be a long string of mistakes does have its perks.  Noctis, on the other hand, knew he was going to be chewed out about this for _multiple_ reasons.  He had kept putting off talking to you about the connection he _knew_ the two of you had, which was already irritating Ignis considering the certain detail that Noctis did happen to be the _king_ and did eventually need to get _married_ and have _children_.  Then there was Gladio, who was already involved in his own mess with Trysta, was going to want to talk about when and why it happened, tacking on a question regarding whether or not it had to do with how much time Noctis had been spending with you. 

Dinner itself was going well, even the evening had gone well, he’d even managed to resist the urge to kiss you out on the back porch.  He even managed to deal with a last-minute call without getting a migraine and didn’t get any other calls afterwards.  It had all been going _so_ well, he should have _known_ something would come along to complicate things further.


	12. Family: The People You Wanna Kill Most But Can't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family didn't always make things less complicated, in your experience they almost always made everything more complicated. You loved your family, but there were times you just wanted to strangle each and every relative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember all those times I mentioned Rea’s relationship with mom is complicated and kind of based on my own relationship with my mom? I wasn’t kidding. When shit hit the fan, she’d get booze and we’d eat Triscuts and cheese as we drank.
> 
> So, this is more family stuff with Rea than anything else.
> 
> ALSO: I have mentioned some past interactions and events in Rea’s life, I have a pretty clear idea of what those are and have started writing them out, so I can just reference those one-shots instead of reading through every chapter to make sure it’s all consistent. Been thinking about posting them, though I’d have to edit them because they’re really rough at the moment. Thoughts?

# Strings of Fate

### Family: The People You Want To Kill Most But Can't

_He wasn’t happy that you ended up following as his Guardian, but there was only so much he could do to argue – even as the Summoner in need of a Guardian.  He was impressed, he hadn’t the faintest idea you were even training let alone so gifted with Black Magic, but he still didn’t want you there.  Or…he did want you there but it wasn’t safe, and it would end in-_

_“Wow…I’ve heard the Farplane was beautiful but…” you spoke quietly, reverently, as you looked around the scenery.  The flowers were vibrant, and you swore there were colors you hadn’t even seen before, the floating platform you stood on was at the crook of a ‘U’ shaped waterfall of perfectly clear water sparkling with the reflection of the spirits that filled the physical afterlife.  The platform continued to travel forward, closer to the shore and crystalline sea disappearing into the eternally twilight sky, pillars of blue crystal rose from the sea and reached far into the sky, a perfectly white full moon gave the land an ethereal glow._

_The others had either claimed injury or errands, and it was tradition for the Summoner to visit the Farplane at least once during his Pilgrimage.  He couldn’t be left alone, and you had been dying to see the mystical plane, causing you to grab the enchanted Moogle doll you used as a weapon and tool to enhance your magic and dash after the swordsman.  He caught the sight of the other three shooting looks, two smug and the other expecting the Summoner to say **something**._

_It was getting harder not to, the breeze flowing through your hair as you watched the platform come closer to the shore, reaching a stop to allow you to step onto the land.  Nobody knew what was beyond the shore, and while curiosity had struck you before you reached the Farplane you were now too focused on the beauty around you.  The sparkle in your eyes, your smile, the way you laughed as you took in your surroundings and spun around excitedly before stopping to face him._

_“Oh, come on sourpuss, this is exciting!  Most people wonder what the afterlife looks like and never get to see the Farplane,” you urged as you dashed over to your childhood friend and grabbed his hand, pulling him closer to the colorful field of flowers, “We get to see it, and just look at it!  It’s beautiful!”_

_“Sorry, I just…wait,” he stopped, gently pulling you back to face him but never letting go of your hand, spirits it felt perfect intertwined with his own like that, “We…I need to…I need you to go home.”_

_“What?” your eyes shot wide, joy and wonder quickly giving way to fear and dread ad a thousand anxieties fluttered through your heart, “Aren’t I strong enough?  I can get stronger, I don’t mean to hold you-“_

_“No, no, it’s nothing like that.”  He couldn’t help but smile as he stepped closer to you, deep blue eyes peering into those pools of silver-blue he loved so much, “You’re perfect, you’ve always been perfect…but you’re in danger here and I…I can’t stand the thought of…I can’t let you get-“_

_“I know…I overheard our moms talking and…I know how you feel,” you admitted quietly, shoulders shrugging up slightly as you looked up at him with guilty eyes, “I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel and I just can’t let you go on some trip this dangerous, I already know I’d never see you again if I left and I…I…I can’t…”_

_Your voice cracked as tears gathered in your eyes, you fought to keep the sobs back.  You couldn’t just loose him.  You were already going to lose him, you knew that, but you couldn’t just let him go and sit at home knowing you were never going to see him again.  The thought alone broke you apart._

_“I love you, and I just want more time with you before I have to…before you…” you shook as your throat clenched and your grip on his hand tightened, “Please don’t make me go…please…”_

_He gently combed his free hand through your hair, brushing it back as he moved in to place a gentle kiss against your lips, eyes closing as bliss just overcame him.  It was a chaste kiss, simply his lips against yours, and it was enough to clean every thought and worry from his mind.  All he could focus was your hand trailing up his shoulder and tangling into the short hair at the nape of his neck.  He was moving on instinct now, and you were too.  Your hands separated, allowing you to throw your arm over his shoulder and grab at the cloth of his jacket as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you as close as humanly possible as the kiss deepened._

_You laughed into the kiss as you felt weightless, falling and briefly recognizing the soft petals of the flowers you were landing in before your back hit the-_

 

You jumped awake, gasping for breath again as you sat up straight in your bed as the alarm on your phone buzzed underneath your pillow.  Between that and the landing you took in that dream you were still shaking.  You managed to shut your alarm off before making your way to the bathroom for a cold shower to bring you back to the real world.  It was the latest of many dreams that felt so… _real_ , and every single one had you jumping awake like you had just been _dragged_ back from the dead.  The feeling of your cold, damp hair though your old t-shirt was helping bring you into the land of the living as you made coffee.

Your attempts at a peaceful morning ended as you heard a terse nock on your apartment door, your bare feet padding against the floor as you made your way to the door without bothering to put on something more modest than your blue shorts.  You expected Trysta to show up after the way last night ended, you just didn’t think it would be at nine thirty in the morning.

“What, couldn’t talk mom into joining in?” you questioned as Trysta stepped inside without an invite, even a silent one, and you shut the door behind her.  This happened every time she got mad.  She liked to think she stayed calm, she did, but she still walked around the place like she was right and everyone else was wrong.  She was far from the only one who did that, and you liked to think it came from her desire to take care of those she loved, but that didn’t make it any less _irritating._

“She’s willing to just let this go, I’m not.  When did it happen?”  Trysta went right to the question and answer session of what was, inevitably, going to be a fight.

“After I took off for a few days.  He found me, we talked, had a few drinks, turns out all I needed to get over my funk was a couple good orgasms,” you answered simply as you walked around the island and grabbed a coffee mug from the cabinet.  You hoped the hot coffee you poured into it would help, grabbing some sugar and a spoon while you were at it.

“I’d offer you some but it’s not decaf and you’re still pregnant with the child of my best friend’s older brother.  The other aunt is next door, by the way, if you wanna say hi,” you didn’t look up from putting a spoonful of sugar into your mug of coffee before stirring with the same spoon.  Not only were you 28 years old and far too old to be lectured like you were a child, but Trysta was hardly in a place to be lecturing you.

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you sleeping with the _king_ , who also happened to be your _boss_ at the time,” Trysta countered as she sat on one of the stools, hands clutched together on top of the island as she kept up the act of being calm and collected.  You took a much-needed drink of your hot coffee before placing it down on the island and continued through the morning routine you already had planned.  You pulled the carton of six eggs, you never risked getting more simply because you lived alone, and carefully placed them on the island before grabbing a few of the vegetables you bought and an onion from the bag you left on the counter and placing them together with the carton of eggs.

After placing the chopping board next to the collection of ingredients, you grabbed a chopping knife from the knife block and flipped it with expertise as you grabbed the mushrooms and started dicing them.

“It kind of is, considering my vagina’s social life isn’t your business either,” you pointed out as you started chopping a few mushrooms before getting started carefully dicing the cherry tomatoes and peppers.  You picked the bell pepper out of the fridge specifically because last time Trysta was pregnant, she _hated_ peppers.  It was petty, yes, but with the way Trysta scrunched her nose it had the desired effect.

You loved Trysta, she was your sister and had been there to put up with you when you were a kid, but you weren’t a kid anymore.  To top things off, she had her own child and another on the way.  She had bigger problems to worry about than who had been granted access to your lady parts.

“But he’s the-“

“He’s my friend, he’s someone that actually knows what I’ve been through, he’s someone I’ve always been able to talk to about anything,” you corrected as you stopped focusing on making your veggie omelet and looked at your sister, “He’s not the king, he’s never been my boss, he’s always just been Noctis and that’s always what he’s going to be.”

“If you needed to talk, you should have come to me instead of running off like a _child_.  There are other ways of dealing with stress than sleeping with the first available person that comes along.”  Trysta still wasn’t buying it, not even as you finished dicing the peppers and moved onto the red onion.

“You’ve only ever been a civilian, you don’t-“

“ _Explain_ it to me!” Trysta demanded, desperate to understand what you had gone through.  She had spent so much of her life taking care of you, the knowledge that you couldn’t go to her for everything killed her inside.  She was still upset with your personal choices, they were _reckless_ at best in her opinion, but she still wanted to know you could go to her for everything.  The sad fact of the matter, however, was that you _couldn’t_.  Your sister hadn’t even been shot _at_ , let alone actually been shot or close to death.  She had no idea just what you had done in service to your country, she had no idea how your mind worked.  How you could look at an enemy’s military base as something to pick apart, or even look at _people_ as something to manipulate, an _object_ to be toyed with until you got what you needed.

“No.”  You were firm in your answer, grabbing two eggs and cracking them so you could whip them with a fork.  You knew what you had to do, what you had _done_.  You had blood on your hands, there were people you loved dearly that you watched suffer and die.  You could handle that, you were able to walk into a battlefield and eliminate the enemy without a second thought.  You could live with the blood on your hands, you could live with the fact that being a spymaster would require you to make the call over a single person lived or died, even how to covertly kill them if it came to it.  That was something Trysta was never able to deal with.  She could barely deal with _you_ being in danger.  Knowing just how much blood you had on your hands?  The things you did just for _information_?  It would _kill_ her.

Trysta was silent for a moment, shocked.  She hadn’t expected you to deny her so simply.  There was no explanation, you were firm and unwavering, and the lack of answer was not something Trysta was accustomed to when it came to your personal life.  She was able to deal with it with your professional life, but _personal_?  You had never held something from her, as far as she knew.  You may not have immediately told her, but if she asked you didn’t withhold information.  This was the first time in 28 years you had done so.

For someone whose personal and professional lives split so neatly, it was hard to understand.

“That’s it?  No explanation, no… _nothing_?”

“That’s it,” you answered simply, looking Trysta in the eyes and adding, just as tersely, “If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

There were always going to be parts of your life she couldn’t know.  If everything went according to plan, next month most of your life would be well outside of the things she was _allowed_ to know.  You were willing to deal with these demands years ago, partially because you were gone most of the time.  Now, you simply didn’t have the _patience_ to deal with it.  Not when she was surrounded by people who suffered from the same nightmares and memories you did, not when she should have known better.

You didn’t look up from making your breakfast as Trysta gaped at you, before wordlessly leaving your apartment and slamming the door shut behind her.  You took a deep breath, kicking yourself when you wondered _where the hell is Nyx when you need him?_   You knew damn well where he was, just like you knew where all the other Glaives were, save for Libertus.  The bastard still had yet to arrive, assuming he survived the ten years of darkness.  What you wouldn’t give for the days when things were _simple_ , when your biggest concern was your next mission and remembering to dodge the bullets flying towards you.  _How could you think that?_   You were wishing for _war_ simply because it was easier for you, because it was easier for the _few_ like you.  You didn’t really mean that, you just wanted life to be easy again, you wanted your extended family, your fellow Glaives, you wanted people who were long lost to time.

You had started flipping the kitchen knife in your hand, a nervous habit you developed when you started training and had to spend hours just waiting for the right moment.  A nervous habit you developed by _growing up a soldier_.  With an angry cry, you threw the knife to the wall opposite you, across the small living room and to the wall above the old television you acquired, where it struck with a _thud_ and remained embedded until someone pulled it out.

These dreams, your personal life, your sister butting her big nose where it didn’t belong, the _mess_ your life had become…

You needed a job, something to get you _out_ of having time for a personal life, and _fast._

 

“I will admit you have sound reasons for putting it off,” Ignis admitted after Noctis argued you needed time, but there was still a little issue to be dealt with, “That does not eliminate the fact you were _reckless_ -“

“Yeah, I get it, it was stupid, but we both needed to do something stupid,” Noctis continued to argue, Gladio and Prompto had yet to speak up from their spots at the breakfast table, mostly because Prompto was explaining the exceptionally complicated situation surrounding you and the king, “But what if it never works out?  There’s a chance she’s _never_ gonna want kids and all cause I’m _stuck_ on that damn chair, that’s a deal breaker.  So, yeah, I did something stupid, but at least I’ll always have _something_ if it doesn’t work out.”

“He’s got a good point,” Gladio spoke up, sitting back as he absentmindedly tapped his fork against the air, “It’s not _ideal_ , but he’s right, it’s better to have something to look back on than wonder about what could have been.”

“Is it though?” Prompto questioned, leaning forward after pushing his empty plate aside, “I mean, this isn’t an _all or nothing_ thing anymore.  If it doesn’t work out, [Y/N] isn’t just a girl Noct never asked out or the girl that said no, she’s _the one that got away_ , and if she ends up with that position on the Council?  That could be a problem.”

“What am I supposed to do?  Go back in time?” Noctis retorted, pointing out the fact that no matter the final decision regarding the morality of what happened, he couldn’t _change_ it.  There was nothing he could do, besides taking the job offer away from you – something he was _under no circumstances_ going to do.  Everyone knew you were best for the job, he couldn’t let his own personal life get in the way of what was best for his country.  _That was the whole point of being a king._

The room fell silent, as the weight of the issue at hand settled.  Then Gladio asked a question the other three hadn’t even considered.

“You think she’s having the same dreams?”

“Son of a bitch,” Noctis groaned as he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands as he kicked himself for never even _considering_ that possibility.  With or without magic, there was no telling whether or not you started having dreams.  People in entirely different countries had experienced memories of their past lives, there was nothing stopping you from having the same experience.

Considering you were directly tied to him, there was no doubt you were having the same dreams.

 

You tried going back to bed after breakfast.  Every time you dozed back off, another dream came flying back to you and you’d jump awake feeling more exhausted than before.  You were _grateful_ when you were woken up by a knock at your door instead of another dream, pulling you out of your sleep to yank the door open.  Normally, you’d snap at your mom for waking you up or demand to know what she wanted, but she held two bottles of your favorite sour watermelon vodka safely tucked under one arm, and a six-pack of Sprite in her other hand.

“I take it Trys talked to you,” you assumed as you stepped aside and let your mom into your apartment for the second time since she helped you move your fold-out couch.

“It was a lot more yelling and crying, but I got the gist of it,” your mom answered as she placed her gifts on the kitchen island and grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, “She was mostly complaining about the _peppers_ though…”

“I made a veggie omelet with peppers while she was here,” you explained briefly as you grabbed an ice tray from the freezer, “She hated them last time she was pregnant, figured it would chase her out before she climbed on her high horse.”

“Did it?”

You turned and stared indignantly at your mother as she cracked the trays of ice and put two cubes in each glass and questioned, “Mother, it’s six in the afternoon, I’m wearing a cropped sweater and panties, I have no idea where my phone is, and there’s a _knife in my wall._   What do you think?”

Your mom looked around for the knife you mentioned before spotting the kitchen knife still imbedded in the wall above your old television.  You hadn’t bothered even _trying_ to remove it.  You had aimed far enough above your television to _guarantee_ you wouldn’t hit it – despite the fact your practice with Warp Strikes had left your aim _disturbingly_ accurate – and it’s position was just a bit too high for you to even _bother_ trying to yank it out of the wall in your exhausted state.

“Some toothpaste will patch that hole right up.”  That was your mom’s only reaction to the knife, beyond pouring the pink vodka into the two glasses before mixing in the soda.  You had to appreciate that much about her, when you did something questionable she never asked.  You took one of the glasses and started drinking before the two of you rifled through the cupboards before settling on Triscuts and cheese.  You didn’t bother folding the bed back into the couch, the two of you just sitting on the fold-out mattress with plates of crackers and cheese on your laps as you half-watched reruns of the TV show based off of _King’s Knight_.

“You know why we have issues, right?  You’re a highly trained version of me,” your mom spoke up, putting a piece of cheese on her cracker, “You’re doing a hell of a lot better than I ever have, but the similarities are still there.”

You knew that, you always knew that.  That was why you weren’t mad when you found out about your father, that was why she didn’t make a big deal about you sleeping with Noctis, that was why she understood why you _needed_ to join the Glaives despite her nearly consistent absence, that was why she had no issue with you traveling with the boys ten years ago.  You had a silent, unspoken, understanding even despite your differences.  That was why she was the one to show up with alcohol, that was why you were sitting with a snack you both considered your _‘go to,’_ with a TV show you both watched _way_ too much of.

“You’ve never lectured me before, so I’m assuming there’s a point.”  You practically shoved a cracker and cheese into your mouth to keep something else smart from spilling out.  It was amazing to think there really was a filter between your mouth and your brain, with the things that came flying out, and yet every time you drank your filter proved its existence simply by shutting off.

“I would have killed for a friendship like you’ve got with the King – _not the sex part_ – but the actual connection,” she explained, picking her glass up from the side table to take a drink of liquid courage before continuing, “Both of you were put in situations I don’t think any of us can understand, and you need each other just for someone to talk to.  I get that, but you’ve always been able to talk.  You barely knew each other ten years ago, but you’ve always been _weirdly_ close to him.”

“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, I’ll throw you out that window.”  You weren’t really gonna’ do that, but you would throw her out of your apartment.

“I’m not, if anyone understands hooking up with friends to relieve stress it’s me,” your mom retorted, getting more comfortable after placing her empty plate on the side table, “Hell, that’s how I ended up with you.”

_“Aagh_ ,” you cried out in disgust as you reached for your drink and chugged the rest of it to try and erase that information, “By Etro’s sacred thong, I swear that’s the most disturbing thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Considering you were almost eaten by a daemon at seventeen, that’s saying something.

“My _point_ was,” she snapped at you to get your attention back to the matter at hand, “Even if you can’t talk to us about whatever’s bothering you, there’s someone who you can talk to.”

“Yeah, I guess if anyone has experience with weird ass dreams it’d be the unlucky chump chosen by the Astrals,” you muttered to yourself as you got up to get another drink, taking your empty plate and your mom’s with you.  Your mom didn’t hear you completely, asking what you said as she turned to look over the back of the couch in an attempt to hear you better.

“Nothing, ma, it’s nothin.”


End file.
